“Bl—bloke—bl—boke!” murmured the doctor, smiling celestially, with a little vague wave of his fingers toward the fragments of his churchwarden, from the bowl of which the sparks were flitting lightly along High Street. “Blo—boke—my—p—p—phife!”
“I—shay, ole boy, you—come—in,” and he beckoned William, grandly, through the window.
William glanced at the door, and the doctor, comprehending, said, with awful solemnity:
“All—thingsh deeshenly—in an—in or—or—orrer, I shay. Come ole fellow—wone ye?—toothe th’—th’ door sh’r—an’ you’ll norr regresh—no—never.”
William, though not very sharp on such points, perceived that Doctor Drake had been making merry in his study; and the learned gentleman received him at the hall-door, laying his hand lovingly and grandly on his arm.
“Howzhe th’—th’ ladle—th’ admir’bl’ womr, over there, Mish Perfek?”
“My aunt is very well—perfectly well, thanks,” answered William.
“No thangs—I thang you sh’r—I thang Prover’l!” and the doctor sank with a comfortable sigh, and his back against the wall, shaking William’s hand slowly, and looking piously up at the cornice.
“She’s quite well, but I’ve something to tell you,” said William.
“Comle—comle—ong!” said the doctor, encouragingly, and led the way unsteadily into his study.