The old lady smiled, took off her glasses, wiped them with her handkerchief, and put them on again.
"There is so little in medicine books," she said. "His grandfather was my cousin."
"The one—?" asked the startled doctor.
"Yes, that very one," she answered quickly; "but he does not know it, and now we will drop the subject. I will try to get to Cobhurst to-morrow before Dora leaves, and I will see if I cannot help matters along a little."
The doctor laughed. "I was going to ask you to interfere with matters."
"Well, don't," she said. "And now tell me about your cook. Is she as good as ever?"
"As good?" said the doctor. "She is better. The more she learns about our tastes, the more perfectly she gratifies them. Mrs. Tolbridge and I look upon her as a household blessing, for she gives us three perfect meals a day, and would give us more if we wanted them; the butcher reverences her, for she knows more about meat and how to cut it than he does. Our man and our maid either tremble at her nod or regard her with the deepest affection, for I am told that they spend a great deal of their time helping her, when they should be attending to their own duties. She has, in fact, become so necessary to our domestic felicity, and I may say, to our health, that I do not know what will become of us if we lose her."
"Is there any chance of that?" eagerly asked the old lady.
"I fear there is," was the answer.
Miss Panney sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing.