“I'm not cool and patient,” declared Alexia, abruptly pulling down, with her well hand, the little doctor till she could whisper in his ear. “Oh, aunt does fuss so—you can't think; I'm a raging wild animal.”
“Well, you haven't been raging to-night, Alexia,” said the little doctor, bursting out into a laugh.
“Oh, hush, do,” implored Alexia, who wasn't in the slightest degree afraid to speak her mind, least of all to Dr. Fisher, whom she liked immensely; “they'll all hear us,” she brought up in terror.
“What is it, Alexia?” cried her aunt from the sofa, where Dr. Fisher had asked her to be seated, as it was well across the room. “Oh, is she worse?” she exclaimed, hurrying over nervously.
“There, now, you see,” cried Alexia tragically, and sinking back in her chair; “everything's just as bad as can be now.”
“Not in the least, Miss Rhys,” the little doctor said in his cheeriest tones, “only Alexia and I had a little joke all by ourselves.” And as he waited coolly for the maiden lady to return to her seat, she soon found herself back there. Then he went over to Mamsie, and said something in a low tone.
“Yes, Adoniram.” Mother Fisher nodded over Polly's brown head. “She ought to have a good night's sleep.”
“Polly,” said Dr. Fisher, leaning over her, “it's just this: that aunt of Alexia's—she's a good enough sort of a woman, I suppose,” wrinkling his brows in perplexity to find the right words, “but she certainly does possess the faculty to rile folks up remarkably well. She sets my teeth on edge; she does really, wife.” He brought out this confession honestly, although he hated professionally to say it. “And Alexia—well, you know, Polly, she ought to be kept quiet to-night. So your mother and I—we do, don't we, dear?” taking Mamsie's hand.
“We certainly do,” said Mrs. Fisher, not waiting for the whole story to be told, “think it's best for you to have Alexia with you to-night.”
“Oh, goody!” exclaimed Polly, sitting quite straight in Mamsie's lap.