Yes;
I'll enlarge upon your headache, my dear. But why in thunder did I say
yes to that confounded doctor? I'd like to wring your cook's neck,
Nelly!"
"You'll have a good supper," she consoled him, "and that's what you
want. They say Mrs. King is a great housekeeper. And besides, if you
stayed at home you would probably have to entertain Mr. Sam Wright."
"I'll be darned if I would," he assured her, amiably, and started off.
He had the good supper, although when the doctor broke to his wife
that company was coming, Mrs. King had protested that there was
nothing in the house to eat. "And there's one thing about me, I may
not be perfect, but I am hospitable, and--"
"Just give them what we were going to have ourselves."
"Now, William! I must say, flatly and frankly--"
"There's the office bell," murmured the doctor, sidling away and
hearing the reproachful voice lessening in the distance--"how hard I
try--nothing fit--"
The office door closed; the worst was over. There would be a good
supper--William had no misgivings on that point. Mrs. Richie would
talk to him, and he would tease her and make her laugh, and laugh
himself. The doctor did not laugh very much in his own house; domestic
virtue does not necessarily add to the gayety of life. During the
afternoon Willy tried on three different neckties, and twice put
cologne on his handkerchief. Then appeared Mr.
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