“Mebbe. But this call ain’t like your usual ones, is it?”
“No,” responded the doctor with dignity, “I can’t say that it is.”
“Then you can’t expect to get so much for it,” piped Ellen triumphantly. “My niece will settle with you. Give him a dollar, Lucy—not a cent more. He’ll have fun enough gossipin’ about me to make up the rest of the fee.”
Doctor Marsh, his face a study in outraged decorum, stalked indignantly from the room. 203 Ellen, peeping from beneath her lids, watched him with satisfaction.
“Has he gone?” she demanded, when Lucy returned.
“Yes.”
“Thank the Lord. The fool doesn’t know anything, anyway. Now you go back downstairs an’ finish up your work. There ain’t no call for you to be idlin’ the day out, even if I am.”
“I don’t like to leave you alone.”
“Pooh, pooh! I can’t no more’n die, an’ if I was to start doin’ that you couldn’t stop me.”
Lucy moved toward the door; then turning she remarked gently: