"Pay board! Not she. She wouldn't pay anything so long as she has a relative to live on. She's saved all her life. But nobody'll get any good of it till she's dead."
This talk stopped when their hostess entered, changing to more general themes; but the interest revived when men's voices took up the tale.
"Yes—wants her will made again. Always making and unmaking and remaking. Harmless amusement, I suppose."
"She wastes good money on both of us—and I tell her so. But one can't be expected to absolutely refuse a patient."
"Or a client!"
"No. I suppose not."
"She's not really ill then?"
"Bless you, Ruthven, I don't know a sounder old woman anywhere. All she needs is a change—and to think of something besides herself! I tell her that, too—and she says I'm so eccentric."
"Why in all decency don't her son do her doctoring?"
"I suppose he's too frank—and not quite able to speak his mind. He's a fine fellow. That paper of his will be a great feature of our convention. Shame he can't go."