"Indeed," he said, the dawning interest deepening in his face; "what are they?"
"I do not mean to tell you," she replied with a little piquant nod and smile. "I've learned better than those people who have a dozen infallible medicines at their tongues' end for every trouble under heaven. I never name my remedies; for if I did, people would turn away in contempt for such commonplace simples."
"I can guess one of them already," he said with a pleased light coming into his eyes.
"So quickly, Mr. Mayhew? I doubt it."
"Kindness," he said, in a low tone.
"Well," she replied with a slight flush, "I can stoutly assert that this remedy did me good when all the long-named drugs in the 'Materia Medica' could not have helped me."
He looked at her searchingly a moment, and then said in the same low tone:
"And so you are trying to apply your remedy to me? It certainly is very good of you. Most people when they are cured, throw away the medicine, forgetting how many others are sick."
"Perhaps we can never exactly say we are cured in this life; but
I think we can all get better."
"It depends a great deal upon the disease," he replied, with a shrug.