"The Duchess?" The doctor screwed up his eyes and looked round the table.
Mr. Birch, with complacency, named the wife of a neighboring potentate who owned half the county.
"Don't know her," said the doctor--"don't know her; and--excuse the barbarity--don't wish to know her."
"Oh, but so charming!" cried Mr. Birch--"and so kind!"
The doctor shook his head, and declared that great ladies were not to his taste. "Poodles, sir, poodles! 'fed on cream and muffins!'--there is no trusting them."
"Poodles!" said Fanny, in astonishment. "Why are duchesses like poodles?"
The doctor bowed to her.
"I give it up, Miss Merton. Ask Sydney Smith."
Fanny was mystified, and the sulky look appeared.
"Well, I know I should like to be a duchess. Why shouldn't one want to be a duchess?"