“There’s enough to do without it; the practice increases daily,” cried Tamlyn. “Arnold is much liked.”
“How are all the old patients?”
“That is a comprehensive question,” smiled Tamlyn. “Some are flourishing, and some few are, of course, dead.”
“Is Dockett with you still?”
“No. Dockett is in London at St. Thomas’s. Sam Jenkins is with us in his place. A clever young fellow; worth two of Dockett.”
“Who is Sam Jenkins?”
“A nephew of Lady Jenkins—you remember her? At least, of her late husband’s.”
“I should think I do remember Lady Jenkins,” laughed Shuttleworth. “How is she? Flourishing about the streets as usual in that red-wheeled carriage of hers, dazzling as the rising sun?”
“Lady Jenkins is not well,” replied Tamlyn, gravely. “She gives me some concern.”
“In what way does she give you concern?”