VALENTINE. Certainly, Miss Susan. Well, ma'am, I think I could cure Miss Livvy if she is put unreservedly into my hands. MISS SUSAN (_with a sigh_). I am sure you could. VALENTINE. Then you are my patient, Miss Livvy. PHOEBE (_nervously_). 'Twas but a passing indisposition, I am almost quite recovered. VALENTINE. Nay, you still require attention. Do you propose making a long stay in Quality Street, ma'am? PHOEBE. I--I--I hope not. It--it depends. MISS SUSAN (_forgetting herself_). Mary is the worst. VALENTINE. I ask your pardon? PHOEBE. Aunt Susan, you are excited. VALENTINE. But you are quite right, Miss Livvy; home is the place for you. PHOEBE. Would that I could go! VALENTINE. You are going. PHOEBE. Yes--soon. VALENTINE. Indeed, I have a delightful surprise for you, Miss Livvy, you are going to-day. PHOEBE. To-day? VALENTINE. Not merely to-day, but now. As it happens, my carriage is standing idle at your door, and I am to take you in it to your home--some twenty miles if I remember. PHOEBE. You are to take me? VALENTINE. Nay, 'tis no trouble at all, and as your physician my mind is made up. Some wraps for her, Miss Susan. MISS SUSAN. But--but---- PHOEBE (_in a panic_). Sir, I decline to go. VALENTINE. Come, Miss Livvy, you are in my hands. PHOEBE. I decline. I am most determined. VALENTINE. You admit yourself that you are recovered. PHOEBE. I do not feel so well now. Aunt Susan! MISS SUSAN. Sir---- VALENTINE. If you wish to consult Miss Phoebe---- MISS SUSAN. Oh, no. VALENTINE. Then the wraps, Miss Susan. PHOEBE. Auntie, don't leave me. VALENTINE. What a refractory patient it is. But reason with her, Miss Susan, and I shall ask Miss Phoebe for some wraps. PHOEBE. Sir! (_To their consternation he goes cheerily into the bedroom_. MISS PHOEBE _saves herself by instant flight, and nothing but mesmeric influence keeps_ MISS SUSAN _rooted to the blue and white room. When he returns he is loaded with wraps, and still cheerfully animated, as if he had found nothing untoward in_ LIVVY'S _bedchamber._) VALENTINE. I think these will do admirably, Miss Susan. MISS SUSAN. But Phoebe---- VALENTINE. If I swathe Miss Livvy in these---- MISS SUSAN. Phoebe---- VALENTINE. She is still busy airing the room. (_The extraordinary man goes to the couch as if unable to perceive that its late occupant has gone, and_ MISS SUSAN _watches him, fascinated._) Come, Miss Livvy, put these over you. Allow me--this one over your shoulders, so. Be so obliging as to lean on me. Be brave, ma'am, you cannot fall--my arm is round you; gently, gently, Miss Livvy; ah, that is better; we are doing famously; come, come. Good-bye, Miss Susan, I will take every care of her.