“I would not go more, then, if it is only for the servants’ hall,” cried Katherine.
“Why not?” he said. “I consider Mrs. Cole, the cook, is quite as valuable a member of society as Lady Jane. The world would not come to an end if Lady Jane were absent for a day, or laid up, but it would very nearly—at Steephill—if anything happened to the cook.”
“You said you were ’umble, Dr. Burnet, and I did not believe you. I see that you are really so, now.”
“Ah, there I disagree with you,” he said, a little flush on his face. “I am ’umble about my personal appearance, but I only don’t mind with Lady Jane. She thinks of me merely as the general practitioner from Sliplin, which shows she doesn’t know anything—for I am more than a general practitioner.”
“I know,” cried Katherine quickly, half with a generous desire not to leave him to sing his own praises, and half with a wondering scorn that he should think it worth the while; “you will be a great physician one of these days.”
“I hope so,” he said quietly. Then, after a while, “But I am still more than that; at least, what would seem more in Lady Jane’s eyes. I am not a doctor only, Miss Katherine. I have not such a bad little estate behind me. My uncle has it now, but I’m the man after him; and a family a good deal better known than the Uffingtons, who are not a century old.” He said this with a little excitement, and a flourish in his hand of the teaspoon with which he had been stirring his tea.
Jim Dobbs, driving past the window, white with snow, yet looking like a huge blackness in the solidity of the group, he and his high coat and his big horse amid the falling feathers, caught the gesture and wondered within himself what the doctor could be about; while Katherine, looking up at him from the tea-table, was scarcely less surprised. Why should he tell her this? Why at all? Why now? The faint wonder in her look made Dr. Burnet blush.
“What a fool I am! As if you cared about that,” he said with a stamp of his foot, in impatience with himself, and shame.
“Oh, yes, I care about it. I am glad to hear of it. But—Dr. Burnet, let me give you another cup of tea.”
“But,” he said, “you think what have I to do with the man’s antecedents? You see I want you to know that I can put my foot forward sometimes—like——” he paused for a moment and laughed, putting down his cup hastily. “No more! No more! I must tear myself from this enchanted cliff, or Jim Dobbs will mistake the window for the stable door—like my elderly friend, Miss Katherine,” he said over his shoulder as he went away.