"How distressing! Does your medical man give you hopes of getting over it?"
"That's in Higher Hands, my dear. We are trying the effecks of sea-air on my complaint, just now. That's what has brought us all the way down from Ontario. The doctor thinks I want bracing, and he gives me poothers to take. You see, it's homoeopathy we are trying. And that 'minds me: this is my time for a poother. What can have come over Peter that he isn't here to give me it?"
"Can you not take your powder yourself?"
"No; it's small and delicate, and not easy to apply. The doctor ordered it to be sprinkled on the tongue. I wish Peter was here. The thoughtless rascal!"
"On the tongue? How odd! Do you think I could do it for you?"
"My dear, if you would! Ye're a dear lamb, and ye'll be a treasure to any mother-in-law that gets you."
"Have you the powder?"
"I carry them about with me, to prevent accidents, when I'm living in a strange house. The maids might be for tasting them, ye see, and nobody knows what might happen."
Mrs Wilkie sat down in a chair facing the window, handed a tiny parcel to Rose, and stretched out her feet in front, while she laid back her head, grasping the chair-arms, shutting her eyes tight, and opening her mouth wide to display the flat red tongue. It was a moment of tension with her; she was stretched to her utmost, holding her breath, and with every muscle tightened in expectant rigidity.
Rose opened the parcel, which contained a pinch of white powder, and proceeded to administer; but the appearance of the patient was so comic that she had to forbear while calming her risible inclinations, lest her hand should shake and the precious remedy fall on a wrong place. At length she felt steady, and began to sprinkle as directed. But the sprinkling took time. The powder was to be evenly scattered over the member, or evil results would ensue; and meanwhile the patient was holding in her breath. She clutched the chair-arms, and strove valiantly; but nature gave way at length. Just as the last flake descended to its place, the imprisoned wind broke loose with a mighty sigh; a white cloud ascended between herself and Rose, while the outstretched jaws relaxed and came together; she opened her eyes and sat up, but the "poother" was scattered on the viewless air, and the old lady had little homoeopathy that morning.