"I might have saved that charge," sighed Minerva. "But that was all. How much does it come to?"
"Allowing two visits to Maudie to be equal to three visits to Tommy, the total bill amounts to six pounds three shillings."
"But that's four pounds seven less than he charges."
"And observe I am allowing two pounds eleven for Baby's fidgets—or rather for your fidgets about baby—on the basis of Aunt Maria being worth a guinea a whim."
"Two pounds eleven for looking at Baby's tongue every other day when there was nothing really the matter with him at all! It's preposterous, Jack. There must be something wrong. You must see Dr. Thom at once about that account. Call to-morrow, dear, on your way to town."
I called. After all there is, as Minerva says, something inexpressibly mean in asking a doctor for a detailed account. This thought occurred to me as Dr. Thom shook hands, beaming as usual with that genial heart-warming smile of his.
"Ah—er—Doctor—my wife would like to see you first time you're passing," I managed to say.
"Nothing serious, I hope?"
"Nothing much. A little matter of detail—that is—I mean Maudie's chest—or rather Tommy's stomach."