Galusha smiled, feebly. “There were times when I began to think I should be forced to,” he said.
“I don't doubt it. There, there! now don't try to talk any more till you've had something to eat. Doctor Powers will be here pretty soon; it isn't very far—in an automobile. I'm afraid he's liable to have a queer notion of what's the matter with you. The idea of that Primmie tellin' him you hadn't had anything but rum for she didn't know how long! My, my! Well, 'twas the truth, but it bears out what my father used to say, that a little truth was like a little learnin', an awfully dangerous thing.... There, there! don't talk. I'll talk for both of us. I have a faculty that way—father used to say THAT, too,” she added, with a broad smile.
When Doctor Powers did arrive, which was about fifteen minutes later, he found the patient he had come to see drinking hot tea and eating buttered toast. He was sitting in a big rocker with his steaming shoes propped against the stove. Miss Phipps introduced the pair and explained matters to the extent of her knowledge. Galusha added the lacking details.
The doctor felt the Bangs' pulse and took the Bangs temperature. The owner of the pulse and temperature made feeble protests, declaring himself to be “perfectly all right, really” and that he must be going back to the village. He couldn't think of putting every one to so much trouble.
“And where will you go when you get back to the village?” asked Doctor Powers.
“Why, to the—ah—hotel. I presume there is a hotel.”
“No, there isn't. The Inn across the road here is the only hotel in East Wellmouth, and that is closed for the season.”
“Dear me, doctor! Dear me! Well, perhaps I may be able to hire a—ah—car or wagon or something to take me to Wellmouth. I have friends in Wellmouth; I intended visiting them. Do you know Professor Hall—ah—George Hall, of New York?”
“Yes, I know him well. He and his family are patients of mine. But the Halls are not in Wellmouth now.”
“They are not?”