“I will, my love—I will,” said Dr Bolter, with his mouth full of toast.
“It all sounds very alarming, dear, but I cannot help thinking that it will be explained in a very simple manner.”
“I hope so.”
“You see there are four of them; and as Arthur is one, I think we may feel assured.”
“Well, my dear these are business times,” said the doctor, “and we must speak in business ways. Arthur is the best old fellow in the world; but I am sorry to say that he is a terrible old woman.”
“Henry!” said the lady, reproachfully.
“Well, my dear, he is. Now, would you have much confidence in him if it were a case of emergency?”
“I—I think I would sooner trust to you, Henry,” said the little lady, softly; “but do make haste and get a good breakfast. If you want me, send a message, and I will come directly.”
“All right,” said the doctor, rising once more. “Now I’m off.”
“But one moment, Henry,” said the little lady, whose feelings now got the upper hand. “Tell me, dear—do you think anything dreadful has happened?”