“It’s Doctor O’Flaherty,” said Doris, kneeling up also on the window-seat and looking out at the car which was coming up the drive at a trot.
The car drew up at the door, and Dr O’Flaherty of Tullagh, an old gentleman with grey side-whiskers, a clean-shaved physician’s mouth, and a humorous grey eye, descended and went up the steps.
“Well, James,” said the doctor, as the door opened to him, “and what’s the matter?”
“Her ladyship is poorly, sir, and there’s a houseful of influenza,” replied James, who was not an optimist. “Which will you see first, sir, the influenza or her ladyship?”
“Seniores priores!” said the country doctor cheerily, as he took his stethoscope from his hat, hung his hat up and divested himself of his overcoat. “Her ladyship, James, by all means.”
At this moment the door of the library opened and General Grampound came out.
“I beg your pardon,” said General Grampound, “are you the doctor?”
“I am,” said the practitioner.
“May I have a word with you?”
“With pleasure!”