In fifteen minutes everything was settled and the doctor was driving away. He was in good spirits over the results of his mission, for that morning La Fleur had waylaid him as he went out and again had spoken to him about the possibility of hiring a little house in the suburbs.
"I am sure this arrangement will suit our good cook," he thought; "but as for its continuance, we must let time and circumstances settle that."
The doctor reached home about eleven o'clock.
"What do you think it would be better to do," he said to his wife, when he had made his report, "to stop at Mrs. Drane's as I go out this afternoon, or to tell Cicely about our Cobhurst scheme, and let her tell her mother?"
"The thing to do," said Mrs. Tolbridge, closing her desk, at which she was writing, "is for me to go and see Mrs. Drane immediately, and for you to send Cicely home and give her a lot of work to do at Cobhurst. They should go there this afternoon."
"Yes," said the doctor; "of course, the sooner the better; but it has struck me perhaps it might be well to mention the matter to Miss Panney before the Dranes actually leave Mrs. Brinkly. You know she was very active in procuring that place for them."
Mrs. Tolbridge looked at her husband, gave a little sigh, and then smiled.
"What is your opinion of a bird," she asked, "who, flying to the shelter of the woods, thinks it would be a good idea to stop for a moment and look down the gun-barrel of a sportsman, to see what is there?"
The doctor looked at her for a moment and then, catching her point, gave her a hearty laugh for answer, and walking to his table, took up a sheet of manuscript and carried it to the room where Miss Drane was working.
"The passage which so puzzled you," he said, "has been deciphered by Mrs. Tolbridge and myself, and reads thus: 'The philosophy of physiological contrasts grows.'"