“There, there, you must sit quite straight. That's a nice child, Phronsie. And see here! I must take you sometime in my carriage when I go on my calls. Will you go, Phronsie?” and Dr. Pennell smiled again.
“Yes, I will.” Phronsie nodded her yellow head, while she fastened her eyes on his face. “I used to go with Papa Fisher when I was at the little brown house, and I liked it; I did.”
“Well, and now you will go with me,” laughed Dr. Pennell. “Now, Phronsie, I think you are fixed up quite nicely,” slipping the various articles he had used, deftly into his little bag, and snapping it to.
“Not a very bad affair,” he said, whirling around to old Mr. King, drawn deeply within a big chair, having already telegraphed the same to Mother Fisher over Phronsie's head.
“Thank the Lord!” exclaimed the old gentleman.
“Well, now I'm going to send every one out of the room,” announced Dr. Pennell, authoritatively. “Hurry now!” he clapped his hands and laughed.
Old Mr. King sat quite still, fully determined not to obey. But the doctor, looking over him fixedly, seemed to expect him to leave; and although he still had that pleasant smile, he didn't exactly give the impression that his medical authority could be tampered with. So the old gentleman found himself outside the door.
“And now, we must find Joel,” Polly was saying to Jasper.