“Oh, yes; but he is very tired. Traveling is so tiresome, etc., etc.,” and thus evaded a direct answer. She couldn’t tell a lie, and she wouldn’t tell the truth.
A little later Doctor Doering called me up and asked me if I had had a pleasant trip. I explained in detail how storms at sea and the inevitable and invariable miscalculations and misconnections of Southern travel had interfered more or less with the accomplishment of the objects of my medico-social holiday enterprise.
The next morning I stopped at the Woman’s Hospital and met Doctor Martin, the great medical handshaker, at the hall door. He stepped up to me with a radiant accentuated smile, shook me thoroughly and said:
“Why, hello, Byford! Did you have a pleasant trip?”
He had me by the hand and is stronger than he looks. Hence I could not quickly get away, and proceeded to explain that I had seen the place where it was thought that the canal was going to be dug, and where it was thought that the meeting of the Medical Congress had been held, and was more or less satisfied with my trip, particularly with the getting back end of it.
After a few other evasive answers, applauded by genuine shakes, I escaped from his grip and ran almost into the arms of the housekeeper. She stopped a minute, looked at me with animated eyes and an expansive smile and said:
“Why, Doctor Byford, how do you do? Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“Why—y-yes, very pleasant—that is—considering that I had to be away from the hospital and my work. Very pleasant, but quite warm and sunshiny, thank you.”
I escaped up stairs, but Doctor Steele stood grinning at the top. “Why, how are you, Byford? Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“Yes, of course. It was a great success and I got back safely. I met the Panama women and the Panapa men and saw the site of the Panamañana canal and many other strange sights.”