sistent."

"Hypochondria!" snapped Miss Delia.

"Not altogether. I'm afraid there is a little real heart trouble. Dr.
Irechester--"

"Oh, with Dr. Irechester, dear Mr. Beaumaroy, you're all right!"

Again Beaumaroy's glance--that glance of innocent appeal--ranged over the
company (except the General, out of its reach). He seemed troubled and
embarrassed.

"A most accomplished man, evidently, and a friend of yours, of course.
But, well, there it is, a mere fancy, of course, but unhappily my old
friend doesn't take to him. He, he thinks that he's rather inquisitorial.
A doctor's duty, I suppose--"

"Irechester's a sound man, a very sound man," said Mr. Naylor. "And,
after all one can ask almost any question if one does it tactfully, can't
one, Miss Wall?"

"As a matter of fact, he's only seen Mr. Saffron twice--he had a little
chill. But his manner, unfortunately, rather, er--alarmed--"

Gertie Naylor, with the directness of youth, propounded a solution of the
difficulty. "If you don't like Dr. Irechester--"

"Oh, it's not I who--"

"Why not have Mary?" Gertie made her suggestion eagerly. She was very
fond of Mary, who, from the height of age, wisdom and professional
dignity, had stooped to offer her an equal friendship.

"She means Dr. Mary Arkroyd," Mrs. Naylor explained.

"Yes, I know, Mrs. Naylor, I know about Dr. Arkroyd. In fact, I know her
by sight. But--"

"Perhaps you don't believe in women doctors?" Alec suggested.

"It's not that. I've no prejudices. But the responsibility is on me, and
I know very little of her; and, well to change one's doctor, it's rather
invidious--"

"Oh, as to that, Irechester's a sensible man; he's got as much work as he
wants, and as much money too. He won't resent an old man's fancy."

"Well, I'd never thought of a change, but if you all suggest it--"
Somehow it did seem as if they all, and not merely youthful Gertie had
suggested it. "But I should rather like to know Dr. Arkroyd first."

"Come and meet her here; that's very simple. She often comes to tennis
and tea. We'll let you know the first time she's coming."

Beaumaroy most cordially accepted the idea and the invitation. "Any
afternoon I shall be delighted, except Wednesdays. Wednesdays are sacred,
aren't they, Miss Wall? London on Wednesdays for Mr. Saffron and me, and
the old brown bag!" He laughed in a quiet merriment. "That old bag's been
in a lot of places with me and has carried some queer cargoes. No