Bettina, alias Toots, alias Twinkles, alias the Cherub, trotted over and laid two plump hands on the doctor’s knee.
“Ain’t you goin’ to be anyfing in the play?” she asked.
“I?” said Dr. Strong. “Of course, Toots. Every real association has to have officers and membership, you know. I’m the Member.”
III.
REPAIRING BETTINA
“Medicine would be the ideal profession if it did not involve giving pain,” said Dr. Strong, setting a paper-weight upon some school reports which had just come in.
“You’ve been here three months and you haven’t hurt any one yet,” said Mr. Clyde easily.
“No. I’ve been cautious, and perhaps a little cowardly. My place as Chinese doctor has been such a sinecure that I’ve let things go. Moreover, I’ve wanted to gain Mrs. Clyde’s confidence as much as possible, before coming to the point.”
The expression of Mr. Clyde’s keen, good-humored face altered and focused sharply. He scrutinized the doctor in silence. “Well, let’s have it,” he said at length. “Is it my wife?”
“No. It’s Bettina.”
The father winced. “That baby!” he said. “Serious?”