"'Young,' Sylvester. You heard!"
"Yes, my dear."
"And Doris has been rampaging over the mountains with this young doctor! Just listen—"
"'Such a dear young doctor—so gifted!—with quite distinguished manners. Really, I never came across a medical man with keener insight. I assure you, he read my constitution at a glance which must mean absolute genius on his part, for I am not a person easily understood—so very complex, you know!—as my dear old doctor used often to say—"Yours is such a highly-strung organisation, my dear lady; it needs acute observation—"'"
Mrs. Winton came to a bored pause.
"I don't believe any doctor alive would say anything so supremely absurd—unless by way of flattery."
"But about Doris?"
"I'm trying to find out. It is all about the woman herself. Ah, here we are. 'Doris is writing to Mr. Winton about her new craze for climbing. She went partly up one peak with Mr. Maurice and Mr. Pressford.' Now, which of them is the doctor? 'And Mr. Pressford had a bad fall, and was stunned. Such a mercy that they had a doctor in their party!' So Mr. Maurice is the individual. 'Doris will tell you all that happened. She seems to have helped the others out of their difficulty really most cleverly.'"
Mrs. Winton was scandalised.
"I never heard anything like it! Two full-grown men!—and a girl having to get them out of their difficulties. What next, I wonder?"