"I hope not," said Dr. Gregory smiling, one corner of his mouth for his guest and the other for his niece. "Real enough to do real execution, or I am mistaken, sir."
"Upon my word, sir," said Dr. Quackenboss bowing again,--"I hope--a--Miss Ringgan!--will remember the acts of her executive power at home, and return in time to prevent an unfortunate termination!"
Dr. Gregory laughed heartily now, while Fleda's cheeks relieved her dress to admiration.
"Who will complain of her if she don't?" said the doctor. "Who will complain of her if she don't?"
But Fleda put in her question.
"How are you all at home, Dr. Quackenboss?"
"All Queechy, sir," answered the doctor politely, on the principle of 'first come, first served,'--"and individuals,--I shouldn't like to specify--"
"How are you all in Queechy, Dr. Quackenboss!" said Fleda.
"I--have the pleasure to say--we are coming along as usual," replied the doctor, who seemed to have lost his power of standing up straight;--"My sister Flora enjoys but poor health lately,--they are all holding their heads up at your house. Mr. Rossitur has come home."
"Uncle Rolf! Has he!" exclaimed Fleda, the colour of joy quite supplanting the other. "O I'm very glad!"