“Sure, I never walk at all if I can get a carriage.”
He laughed shortly, and said nothing.
“What do you think about it, doctor—is it a dangerous case?” said Mrs. Macartney, twisting her head so that she could look at his face as he bent over his work. Vivienne saw that she was immensely impressed by his oracular manner of delivering himself.
“Do you want me to prescribe for you?” he asked, straightening himself with a suddenness that made his prospective patient start nervously.
“Ah, yes, doctor, please,” she said.
“Begin then by dropping the supper, avoid fats, sweets, anything starchy. Walk till you are ready to drop; heart’s all right is it?”
“Ah, yes,” pathetically, and with a flicker of her customary waggishness, “my heart’s always been my strong point, doctor.”
“Report to me at my office,” he went on; “come in a week.”
She shuffled to her feet, her face considerably brighter. “You’ve laid me under an obligation, doctor. If you’ll make me a shadow smaller, I’ll pray for the peace of your soul. And now I must go, me dear,” she said, looking at Vivienne, “or I’ll be missed from the drawing room. I crept away you know.”
Vivienne smiled. Mrs. Colonibel had probably watched her climbing the staircase.