"But Sir James is in no danger?" "O dear, no," said the doctor quickly. "I am glad of that," said the visitor, without turning her head, and taking the announcement as if it had come from Aunt Sophia. "Thanks to Doctor Scales's bravery and able treatment," said Aunt Sophia. "Pray, spare me," said the doctor, laughing. "I am so accustomed to blame, that I cannot bear praise." "I am not praising you," said Aunt Sophia, "but telling the simple truth.--What do you say, Naomi?" "I did not speak, aunt," replied the girl. "Tut! child; who said you did?" cried Aunt Sophia pettishly. "You know that the doctor saved your cousin's life." "O yes, indeed," cried Naomi, blushing, and looking up brightly and gratefully; and then shrinking and seeming conscious, as her eyes met those of their visitor gazing at her with an aspect mingled of contempt and anger--a look that made gentle, little, quiet Naomi retire as it were within herself, closing up her petals like some sensitive bud attacked by sun or rain. The doctor saw it, and had his thoughts upon the matter, as, upon his threatening to beat a retreat, Aunt Sophia said: "Well, never mind; I can think what I please." "Think, then, by all means," he said merrily.--"Flattery is hard to bear, Lady Martlett." "I am not accustomed to flattery," said the visitor coldly, and she turned away her head. "That is a fib," said the doctor to himself, as he watched the handsome woman intently. "You are used to flattery--thick, slab, coarse flattery--to be told that you are extremely beautiful, and to receive adulation of the most abject kind. You are very rich, and people make themselves your slaves, till you think and look and move in that imperious way: and yet, some of these days, _ma belle dame_, you will be prostrate, and weak, and humble, and ready to implore Doctor somebody or another to restore you to health. Let's see, though. I called you _belle dame_. Rather suggestive, when shortened and pronounced after the old English fashion.--Well, Miss Raleigh, of what are you thinking?" he said aloud, as he turned and found Naomi watching him; Lady Martlett having risen and walked with Aunt Sophia into the conservatory. "I--I--" "Ah, ah!" said the doctor, laughing. "Come, confess; no evasions. You must always be frank with a medical man. Now then?" "You would be angry with me if I were to tell you," said Naomi. "Indeed, no. Come, I'll help you." "Oh, thank you--do," cried the girl with a sigh of relief, which seemed to mean: "You will never guess." "You were thinking that I admired Lady Martlett." "Yes! How did you know?" cried the girl, starting. "Diagnosed it, of course!" said the doctor, laughing. "Ah, you don't know how easily we medical men read sensitive young faces like yours, and--Oh, here they come back."