"You must avoid all undue excitement, such as dances, theatres, and seeing friends."
"I haven't been to a dance for the last twenty years," said Miss Corbin wrathfully, "and as for a theatre, I've got no time to waste on that rubbish. What do you mean by talking such nonsense to me?"
"Easily upset, I see," murmured Pargowker, apparently to himself, "very easily upset."
"Wouldn't you like a little pillow for your head, dear Miss Jelly?" said Minnie, holding one over Miss Corbin as though she were going to play Othello to the old lady's Desdemona.
"I'd like a little common sense," retorted Miss Corbin, pushing away the pillow, "but it seems I'm not likely to get it."
"Be calm, dear lady, be calm," observed Dr. Pargowker, nodding his head. "If you will permit me, I will write out a prescription."
"Pen, ink, and paper, Minnie!" ordered Aunt jelly, glaring at the doctor.
The obliging Minnie flew to obtain these necessaries, and having done so, placed them on a little table near the physician, who wheeled his chair round and began to write.
Aunt Jelly and Dr. Pargowker were old friends, and never parted without a fight, which, however, was principally conducted by Miss Corbin, as the doctor resolutely kept his temper, and always left the room as bland, cool, and unruffled as when he entered it. In spite of his round-about way of putting things, Pargowker was really very clever at his profession, and Aunt Jelly reposed the utmost confidence in his power, although she never could resist using her sharp tongue on him when occasion offered, and as it did so now, Aunt Jelly began to talk, showing thereby that she was not so ill as she seemed.
"Lord knows how you get patients," she said, folding her bony hands, "it's all chat with you and nothing else."