"Tom isn't with us any more, dearest," said Aunt Enid with trembling reassurance, "and Dr. Snowden is out of town. But we are trying to get Dr. Bean."
"I won't have Bean," Madam declared, clinching her jaw with pain. "I'll send him away if he comes."
"Dr. Vaughn, then?" suggested Miss Enid tenderly.
"Vaughn nothing! Send for Rawlins. He's an old stick, but he'll do till Dr. Snowden gets here."
"But, mother," protested Miss Isobel. "Dr. Rawlins lives in the country; he can't get here for half an hour."
"Do as I tell you and stop arguing," commanded Madam. "Has anybody telephoned Ranny?"
The two sisters exchanged significant glances.
"Their line is busy," said Miss Enid soothingly. "We will get him soon."
"I want to be taken upstairs," announced Madam; "I want to be put in my own bed."
A buzz of protest met this suggestion, and a small, nervous man in clerical garb, who had just arrived, came forward to add his voice to the rest.