"Ever since yesterday; no, the day before. I am excessively nervous, James. I am unfit to talk, utterly unfit; I cannot see people. I want you to keep people away from me for—for some days. You must see that I am unfit to see anybody!"
"Ha!" said Doctor Stedman.
"It agitates me!" cried the old lady. "At my age I cannot afford to be agitated. Have some orange cordial, James; do! it is in the Moorish cabinet there, the right-hand cupboard. Yes, you may bring two glasses if you like; I feel a sinking. You see that I am in no condition for visitors."
The corners of Doctor Stedman's gray beard twitched; but he poured a small portion of the cordial into two fat little gilt tumblers, and handed one gravely to his patient.
"'PERHAPS THIS IS AS GOOD MEDICINE AS YOU CAN TAKE!' HE SAID."
"Perhaps this is as good medicine as you can take!" he said. "Delicious! Does the secret of this die with Direxia? But I'll put you up some powders, Mrs. Tree, for the—a—nervousness; and I certainly think it would be a good plan for you to keep very quiet for awhile."
"I'll see no one!" cried the old lady. "Not even Vesta, James!"
"Hum!" said Doctor Stedman. "Well, if you say so, not even Vesta."