“The doctor’s just in, and I says to him, ‘Now I do hope, sir, you’ll get your meal in comfort to-day, for it’s as tidy a little bit of griskin as any one need wish to see, and done to a turn.’ Owin’ to his profession, he don’t give his vittles no chance, the doctor don’t. Most times he eats ’em standing, and then up in saddle and off again. It’s a hard life, that it is, and he don’t even get his nights reg’lar. Snug and warm in bed, and ring goes that bothering night-bell. If it was me, I should turn a deaf ear sometimes, pertickler in the winter.—Is your boots wet, my dear? No; then come in and see the doctor. He’ll be pleased.”
Maisie would have liked to stay in the kitchen with Mrs Budget, but she was too polite to refuse this invitation, and soon found herself at the door of the doctor’s sitting-room.
“Little Miss Chester, sir,” said Mrs Budget, “come to shelter from the rain;” and thereupon vanished to dish up the dinner.
Maisie looked curiously round the room. It was small, and smelt strongly of tobacco smoke; chairs, mantelpiece, and floor were untidily littered with old newspapers, books, pipes, and bills scattered about in confusion; a pair of boxing-gloves, which looked to her like the enormous hands of some dead giant, hung on the wall, and on each side of them a bright silver tankard on a bracket.
The doctor himself looming unnaturally large, sat sideways at the table on which a cloth was laid, reading a newspaper. He had his hat on, slightly tilted over one eye, and his booted legs were stretched out before him with an air of relief after fatigue. He jumped up when he saw the shy little figure on the threshold, and took off his hat.
“Come in, come in, Miss Maisie,” he said. “Why, this is an honour. Where’s your brother?”
“Dennis ran home for umbrellas,” said Maisie, placing herself with some difficulty on the high horsehair-chair which he cleared with a sweep of his large hand; “it’s raining fast.”
“Why, so it is,” said her host, glancing out of the window, “and ten minutes ago there was no sign of it. That’s a good sight for the farmers. And where have you been? Far?”
“We’ve been to see Tuvvy,” replied Maisie gravely; “he’s helping Dennis, you know, with the jackdaws’ house.”
“Ah, to be sure,” said Dr Price readily, though this was the first time he had heard of such a thing. “Tuvvy’s a clever fellow, isn’t he? And so he’s going to stay on at the farm, after all?”