THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. And they are so appropriate to a bride. So—
Announced by Bennet, Dr. Freemantle bustles in. He is a dapper little man, clean-shaven, with quick brisk ways.
DR. FREEMANTLE [he shakes hands]. Well, and how are we this afternoon? [He feels the pulse of the Younger Miss Wetherell] Steadier. Much steadier! [of the Elder Miss Wetherell.] Nervous tension greatly relieved.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She has been sleeping much better.
DR. FREEMANTLE [he pats the hand of the Elder Miss Wetherell]. Excellent! Excellent!
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. She ate a good breakfast this morning.
DR. FREEMANTLE [he pats the hand of the Younger Miss Wetherell]. Couldn’t have a better sign. [He smiles from one to the other.] Brain disturbance, caused by futile opposition to the inevitable, evidently abating. One page Marcus Aurelius every morning before breakfast. “Adapt thyself,” says Marcus Aurelius, “to the things with which thy lot has been cast. Whatever happens—”
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. You see, doctor, it was all so sudden.
DR. FREEMANTLE. The unexpected! It has a way of taking us by surprise—bowling us over—completely. Till we pull ourselves together. Make the best of what can’t be helped—like brave, sweet gentlewomen. [He presses their hands. They are both wiping away a tear.] When do you expect them?
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. To-night, by the half-past eight train. We had a telegram this morning from Dover.