"That would not matter. We women always tell our own maladies. No; that would not matter; it is merely the look of the thing that troubles me."
The Doctor had the air of being cornered, and remained smiling at Mrs. Larue, awaiting her pleasure.
"I do not propose to consult you," she continued. "I am so constantly well that I am almost unhappy about it. But I do think seriously of studying medicine. What is your opinion of female doctors?"
"A capital idea!" exclaimed Ravenel, jumping at the change of subject. "Why not follow it up? You could master the science of medicine in two or three years, and you have ability enough to practice it to great advantage. You might be extremely useful by making a specialty of your own sex."
"You are a professor of theory and practice, Doctor. Will you instruct me?"
"Oh! as to that—Elderkin would be better. He is precisely in what ought to be your line. I think that out of kindness to you I ought to say No."
"Not even if I would promise to study mineralogy also?"
Ravenel pondered an instant, and then eluded her with a story.
"That reminds me of a chaffering which I overheard in a country tavern in Georgia between a Yankee peddler and an indigenous specimen. The Cracker wanted to sell the stranger a horse. 'I don't care particularly for a trade,' says the Yankee, 'but I'll buy the shoes if you'll throw in the creetur.' Medicine is a great science; but mineralogy is a far vaster one."