"A conversazione, my love!—why, is not that a very expensive affair?"
"Why, not very. But if it brings me practice, it will be money well laid out."
"Yes, my love, if it does, and if we had the money to lay out."
"Something must be done. I have hardly a patient left. I have an idea that it will succeed. Go, my dear, and make up this prescription, and let the boy take it to Mrs Bluestone's. I wish I had a couple of dozen patients like her. I write her prescription, take my fee, and then, that I may be sure that it is properly made up, I volunteer to take it to the chemist's myself."
"Pray, what is the complaint of Mrs Bluestone, my love?"
"Nothing; she over-eats herself—that's all. Abernethy would cure her in twenty-four hours."
"Well, but, my love, about this conversazione?"
"Go and make up the prescription, my dear, and we'll talk the matter over afterwards."
They did so. A list of the people they were acquainted with was drawn out, the expense calculated, and the affair settled.
The first point to be considered was the size of the cards.