“Which means that you don’t think her quite done for,” said Meta.
“Not quite,” said the doctor, with a droll intonation; “but I have not seen what this morning may have done to her.”
“Come and see, then,” said Meta. “Flora told me to bring you home—and it is my birthday, you know. Never mind waiting to tell Ethel. Margaret will let her know that I’ll keep you out of mischief.”
As usual, Dr. May could not withstand her, and she carried him off in triumph in her pony carriage.
“Then you don’t give me up yet?” was the first thing she said, as they were off the stones.
“What have you been doing to make me?” said he.
“Doing or not doing—one or the other,” she said. “But indeed I wanted to have you to myself. I am in a great puzzle!”
“Sir Henry! I hope she won’t consult me!” thought Dr. May, as he answered, “Well, my dear.”
“I fear it is a lasting puzzle,” she said. “What shall I do with all this money?”
“Keep it in the bank, or buy railway shares!” said Dr. May, looking arch.