“Don’t be foolish, Henry, dear,” she exclaimed.
“Foolish? No, my dear, certainly not. Hum! Hah! Much fever and exhaustion. Recipe vin Xeres, cochleare magnum. Brisk osculation after the medicine.”
“What?” exclaimed Mrs Bolter.
“You are suffering from weariness and exhaustion, my dear,” said the little doctor; “and I have prescribed for you a drop of sherry, and something to take after it.”
“Not sugar, Henry? and really I would rather not have the wine.”
“Doctor’s orders, my dear. There,” he said, pouring the sherry into a tumbler, and filling it up with cold water, “I have made it as refreshing as I could.”
Mrs Bolter drank off the draught, and made a wry face, holding out her hand.
“Where is the stuff for me to take afterwards?”
“There, my dear,” said the doctor, kissing her very tenderly.
“For shame, Henry!” she cried, blushing like a girl. “Suppose anyone had seen you?”