"Oh yes, thank you, I'm quite well now. I know Dr. Hatch will scold me if he hears me say so"--(with an arch glance baulked of its effect by the unsympathetic spectacles)--"because he tells me I still need great care. But my cough is gone. It is, really!" Mrs. Simpson girlishly shook back her curls, and proceeded to pour out a cup of tea for Mr. Weatherhead. "And how is Simpson?" asked the latter. "Bassy is very well, only immensely busy. He has three new pupils for pianoforte and harmony; the daughters of Colonel ----,--tut, I forget his name,--recommended by that kind Major Mitton. Or at least it would be more proper to say that Major Mitton recommended Bassy to them! Not very polite to say that the young ladies were recommended--oh dear! I beg pardon. I'm afraid I've over-sweetened your tea?" She had, in fact, put in half a dozen lumps, one after the other. But Mr. Weatherhead fished the greater part of them out again with his teaspoon, and deposited them in the saucer, saying it was of no consequence. "I am so sadly absent-minded!" said Mrs. Simpson, smiling sweetly. "Bassy would scold me if he were here." "Serve you right, if he did!" said Dr. Hatch, rising from the table. "You should pay attention to what you're doing. I expect to hear that you have swallowed the embrocation and anointed your throat with syrup of squills." "Oh, doctor! You do say the drollest things!" exclaimed the amiable Amelia, with an enjoying giggle. "Ah, no; not the drollest! Thank Heaven, I hear a great many droller things than I say! That's what mainly supports me in my day's practice." Mrs. Simpson, not in the least understanding him, giggled again. Dr. Hatch had the reputation of being a wag; and Amelia Simpson was not the woman to defraud him of a laugh on any such selfish ground as not seeing the point of his joke. "Well, Mr. Weatherhead," said Miss Patty Piper, blandly, "so we are to have your sister-in-law for a neighbour, I hear." Jo poked his nose forward, and pursed up his mouth. "O-ho! my sister-in-law, Mrs. Dobbs? How do you mean, ma'am, 'as a neighbour'?" "We understand that Mrs. Dobbs has been looking after Jessamine Cottage; the little white house with a garden on the Gloucester Road," returned Miss Patty. Dr. Hatch paused with his hand on the latch of the parlour door to hear. "Oh dear no," said Jo Weatherhead decisively. "Quite a mistake. Sarah Dobbs is too wedded to her old home. Nothing would induce her to leave Friar's Row. You must have been misinformed, ma'am." "As to leaving Friar's Row," put in Miss Polly, "she must do that in any case; for she has let the premises as offices; and at a high rent, too, I hear. Friar's Row is considered a choice position for business purposes."