“No doubt you are right. But he has not yet aired these particular views to me, you know.”
“Then you’ve evidently not talked to him on his particular subject.”
“Evidently not.”
“Wait till you do, my friend! In the meantime I’ll mention the matter to Parker at the meeting and get him over on Monday to see him.”
Further conversation on the thorny subject was forbidden for the time being by the reappearance of Mrs. Small, who had to inform her master that the boy was round with the car. Thereupon Dr. Joliffe looked at his watch and declared that they must start at once if they were to be at Brombridge by three.
VIII
The timed journey to Brombridge in the doctor’s runabout was forty minutes with reasonable driving. On the way both gentlemen were rather silent. By tacit consent John Smith was dismissed for the time being, and they were able to confine themselves to the prospect for potatoes, war in its relation to agriculture, the loss of tonnage, and hearty abuse of the government. For the true Briton, that unfortunate institution vies with that equally unfortunate institution, the weather, in supplying the theme of a never-ending jeremiad. All worthy of their salt, irrespective of creed or party, damn these miserable makeshifts impartially. At the moment the vicar and the doctor drove up to the Assembly Rooms, Brombridge, they were in cordial agreement that only one thing under divine providence could hope to make the British people lose the war, and that thing was the British Government.
By a graceful little act on the part of coincidence—most charming of the minor goddesses!—Dr. Parker was about to ascend the steps of the building just as the car of Dr. Joliffe drew up by the curb. The vicar hailed the leading physician of Brombridge promptly and heartily.
“The very man we want to see.” Mr. Perry-Hennington was one of the fortunate people who act first and do their thinking afterward.
Dr. Parker, an elderly, florid, bewhiskered, important-looking personage, stopped at once, turned about and gave the reverend gentleman the full benefit of his politest smile and his best bow. He then let his eyes pass to the second occupant of the car, fully prepared to let them infold a county magnate. Somehow Mr. Perry-Hennington always contrived to dispense an atmosphere of county magnates, or at least to live in the odor of their sanctity. But as soon as Dr. Parker saw who it was who had had the honor of conveying the vicar of Penfold to the meeting the polite smile and the ceremonious bow were merged almost magically in a brief nod and a gesture bearing a perilous resemblance to a scowl.