"O you shall hear a great deal—I will take that upon myself."
Faith shook her head, gave the fire a final mending, and ran off; for it was again an hour past the mid-day. Mr. Linden's dinner came up, and was hardly removed before Dr. Harrison followed.
"Well, Linden!" he said coming jauntily in,—"I hope you haven't missed me this morning."
"Not in the least."
"I am glad of that. How do you do? I will try and put you in condition not to miss me this evening—though it is benevolent!"—added the doctor, pulling off his left glove. "It is a great secret—to make oneself missed!"
"It is a secret your gloves will hardly find out, by my fire," said Mr.
Linden. "How well you look, doctor!—not a bit like Nought and All."
"No,"—said the doctor,—"I believe I disclaimed that particular sphere of existence yesterday. One had need be One and Somewhat in this wind—if one will keep a place in a wagon, or elsewhere! But fire mustn't tempt me, Linden. I'll see to you and be off, and decide what I'll be afterwards."
"You may be off without preamble."
"Do you mean to dismiss me?" exclaimed the doctor raising his eyebrows.
"Have I said that you must accept my poor services?"
"Why no!" said Mr. Linden,—"doubly no! I am most happy to see you, doctor."