‘I have a weak pulse, have I not?’ asked Bella. ‘I fancy I want exercise—open air—a more invigorating life. I drive a good deal; but there is not much exercise in that, you know.’
‘Very little,’ assented Mr. Namby.
‘Don’t you think riding might be good for me?’
‘The very thing I was about to recommend.’
‘But I’m afraid Mr. Piper might not like me to ride,’ suggested Bella.
‘From my knowledge of Mr. Piper’s devotion to you, my dear madam, I feel assured that he would not oppose anything likely to be of benefit to you,’ said Mr. Namby, with conviction.
‘Then perhaps you will be kind enough to mention it to him. Stop and take your luncheon with us. He is generally at home for luncheon. I feel that I ought to do something, I am getting into such a low way. I began to fancy my heart was affected.’
‘If there really were anything wrong about the heart, riding would be dangerous.’
‘Well, I dare say it is only indigestion, caused by want of exercise.’
Mr. Namby stayed to luncheon. His practice was not so extensive as to forbid his indulging himself with a little leisure once in a way. He had not enjoyed himself so much for a long time; indeed, not since Bella’s wedding breakfast, at which he had been a humble guest, squeezed into a corner at the foot of the table, where very few people saw him, and where some of the best dishes never penetrated.