“‘I mixed those children up, and not a creature knew it,’” hummed Bert Smith. “Your ideas are mixed, Don; stick to the ladies, you understand girls and horseflesh; philosophy isn’t in your line.”
“Oh, sure!” said Adonis unruffled by his friend’s words.
“Charlie Vance,” said Molly severely, “if we have any more swearing from you to-night, you leave the room until you learn to practice good manners. I’m surprised at your language!”
“Just the same, Briggs is a fraud. I shall keep my eye on him. It’s a case of beauty and the beast. Oh,” he continued in malicious glee, “wouldn’t you girls turn green with envy, every man jack of you, if you could see the beauty!”
Thereupon the girls fell to pelting him with holly wreaths and evergreen festoons, much to the enjoyment of Mr. Vance, who had entered unperceived in the general melee.
“What is it all about, Dr. Briggs?” asked Molly in a low voice.
“It is the case of a patient who was in a mesmeric sleep and I was fortunate enough to awaken her. She is a waif; and it will be months before she will be well and strong, poor girl.”
“Do you make a study of mesmerism, Doctor?” asked Mr. Vance from his arm-chair by the glowing fire.
“Yes sir; and a wonderful science it is.”
Before Mr. Vance could continue, Livingston said: “If you folks will be still for about ten minutes, I’ll tell you what happened in my father’s house when I was a very small boy; I can just remember it.”