“No one but the Barlow woman. You might drop in there,” replied the doctor.
“Oh, no, Henry; really I could not,” said Mrs Bolter, wringing her hands.
“Never mind, then. She won’t hurt. She said, as soon as she knew I was going, that she should die if I did not bring Arthur back. I say, my dear, it’s almost enough to make one say one wishes he may never come.”
“Oh, Henry!” cried Mrs Bolter. “I’d sooner suffer a dozen Mrs Barlows than Arthur should not be found!”
“Very well, then, I don’t come back without him,” said the doctor.
“Henry!”
“If I can help it,” he replied; and for the next few moments any one might have taken them for a gushing young couple of eighteen and twenty-three before they tore themselves apart, and the doctor hurried away.
Love is an evergreen. Only give it fair treatment, and the leaves will never fall.
“Come, doctor,” roared Chumbley, as the little man approached the boat. “Do you call this daybreak?”
“Yes, broad daybreak!” said the doctor, chuckling; and the next minute the boat was under weigh, with Yusuf and a crew to use the poles for punting over the shallows.