‘Sit down and talk sensibly,’ said the doctor quietly, ‘and I’ll see what I can do for an old comrade in distress.’
The doctor and his visitor were closeted together in earnest conversation for over an hour. When Marston went out through the garden gate, Rebecca looked after him with as much scorn as her features could assume.
‘He ain’t been here for no good, I’ll wager,’ she said to herself. ‘If he ain’t got something in his pocket as he didn’t bring in with him my name ain’t Rebeccer.’
Rebecca was quite right. Mr. Marston had something in his pocket that he didn’t bring in with him. It was a cheque for £500.
In spite of his non-lucrative practice, Dr. Birnie evidently had a balance at his banker’s.
CHAPTER VIII.
MR. DUCK’S NEW LODGERS.
It is a week since Mr. and Mrs. George Smith have taken up their residence beneath the humble rooftree of Mr. Jabez Duck.
‘Quite the gentleman,’ says Miss Duck, when she discusses the new lodgers with her brother.
‘And quite the lady,’ adds Mr. Duck, upon whom Bess’s bright country face has made a great impression.
‘You’re an idiot, Jabez,’ answers Georgina. ‘She may be a lady in comparison with the persons with whom you are in the habit of associating—housekeepers, cooks, and such like menials—but Mrs. Smith is not a real lady. Anybody could see that with half an eye.’