"Are you deaf?" was his angry salutation, duly emphasized with an oath. "Here I've been hollering after you, till I'm black in the face. I wish I had saved myself the trouble!"
"All the fault of my horse's hoofs," replied the doctor, good-humoredly, as he turned his horse toward the gate; "they made such a clatter under me that I could not well hear anything else. How can I serve you?"
Major Bergan hesitated. Apparently his business did not come readily to his lips.
"Perhaps you are on your way to a patient," he finally observed, as if he would be well enough suited to find an excuse for not broaching it at all.
His reluctance only stimulated the doctor's curiosity. "The case is not urgent," said he, carelessly; "by and by, or even to-morrow morning, will do just as well. There is no reason why I should not be entirely at your service—as I am."
"Come in, then," returned the Major, in a tone that was far from gracious; but swinging open the gate, nevertheless, for Doctor Remy's admission.
The latter dismounted, led his horse through, and slipping the bridle over his arm, walked by the Major's side to the cottage. On the way, the latter vouchsafed a brief explanation of his wishes.
"I've been thinking a good deal of the advice that you gave me awhile ago," said he, "and—and—I've concluded to make my will. So, seeing you riding by, just as my mind was full of the subject, it occurred to me that I might as well call you in, and have the thing over with."
"And a very sensible decision," returned Doctor Remy, as quietly as if he were not filled with unexpected delight that the information which he had hoped to gain only at cost of some deep and difficult scheming, was thus placed within easy reach. "I only wonder that you have not done it before."
"I don't see why I should," replied Major Bergan, sharply; "I've always been strong and hearty,—what had I to do with making wills? And, now that I think of it, what have I to do with it now? I'm not in a decline yet, by any means."