“‘Two physicians at the oar will row you to the Stygian shore,’” he quoted.
Miss Standish laughed, and Dr. Cub Sterling gave both of them a harassed stare. They sobered obediently.
The examination was thorough, painstaking and consumed almost half an hour. At its conclusion Dr. Sterling, Junior, said a very clipped, “Thank you, Miss Standish,” and vanished. And Rose knew how deeply grateful he was, really.
His father lingered long enough to say:
“He’ll explode some day. Thank you, my dear. Thank you very much.”
He took her thin little hand in his capable one and growled:
“You are nervous, aren’t you? I’m going to tell Mattus to give you a bromide, if you need it.” And then he squeezed her hand gratefully and uttered, for the edification of the ward, a very professional, “Good night, Miss Standish.”
“Good night, Doctor.”
Her reply was professional, but she put her hand under the cover and squeezed it herself.
Dr. Bear was a darling. It had been sweet the way he had explained Dr. Sterling’s attitude and then thanked her himself.