"I'll sit down," said Dr. Lavendar, dropping into a chair in the parlor; "but don't flatter yourself, Martha, that you'll ever be as young as I am!" ("He _is_ failing," Mrs. King told her husband afterwards. "He gets his words all mixed up. He says 'young' when he means 'old.' Isn't that a sign of something, William?" "It's a sign of grace," said the doctor shortly.) "I want Willy to come over and give my Mary a pill," Dr. Lavendar explained. "She is as cross as a bear, and cross people are generally sick people--although I suppose that's Mary's temperament," he added sighing. Martha shook her head. "In my judgment _temperament_ is just another word for temper: I don't believe in making excuses for it. That's a great trick of William's, I'm sorry to say." "I should have thought you'd have cured him of it by this time?" Dr. Lavendar murmured; and then he asked if the doctor was out. "Oh, yes," said Mrs. King, dryly; "Willy always manages to get out in the evening on one excuse or another. You'd think he'd be glad of a restful evening at home with me, sometimes. But no. William's patients need a surprising amount of attention, though his bills don't show it When Mrs. Richie's cook was sick--just as an instance--he went six times to see her. I counted." "Well; she got well?"' said Dr. Lavendar. "Got well? She'd have got well if he hadn't gone near her." Martha began to stroke the gathers on a bit of cambric with a precise needle that suddenly trembled. "The woman herself was not to blame it's only just to say that--And there's one thing about me, Dr. Lavendar; I may not be perfect, but I am always just. No, she was not to blame; it was Mrs. Richie who sent for William. She is the most helpless woman I ever saw, for her years;--she is at least forty, though she uses sachet-powders, and wears undersleeves all trimmed with lace, as if she were six teen! I don't want to find fault, Dr. Lavendar, but I must say that _I_ wouldn't have trusted that little boy to her." "Oh," said Dr. Lavendar, "I trusted _her_ to the little boy! She'll be so busy looking after his sleeves, she'll forget her own." Mrs. King sniffed, doubtfully. "I'm sure I hope you are right; but in my opinion, she's a very helpless and foolish woman;--if nothing worse. Though according to my ideas, the way she lets Sam Wright's Sam behave is worse!" Dr. Lavendar was suddenly attentive, "How does she let him behave?" "Well, he is so daft over--her that he neglects his work at the bank to write verses. Why doesn't she stop it?" "Because," said William King, appearing in the doorway, smelling honestly of the barn and picking off a straw here and there from his sleeve; "she knows nothing about it." Dr. Lavendar and Martha both looked up, startled at his tone. "Women," said the doctor, "would gossip about a--a clam!" "I am not gossiping?" Martha defended herself; but Dr. Lavendar interrupted her, cheerfully,