Nor I.—But by-the-bye, Berta—while I think of it: in future you mustn’t say Master George. You must say Dr. Tesman.
Berta.
Yes, the young mistress spoke of that too—last night—the moment they set foot in the house. Is it true then, Miss?
Miss Tesman.
Yes, indeed it is. Only think, Berta—some foreign university has made him a doctor—while he has been abroad, you understand. I hadn’t heard a word about it, until he told me himself upon the pier.
Berta.
Well well, he’s clever enough for anything, he is. But I didn’t think he’d have gone in for doctoring people too.
Miss Tesman.
No no, it’s not that sort of doctor he is. [Nods significantly.] But let me tell you, we may have to call him something still grander before long.
Berta.