"I was just beginning to get up enough energy," he remarked, "to think of
putting on my slippers."

"Well, put them on," said she, in a very decided tone.

"No," replied the doctor, "that will not do; of course I must go to her."

"You mustn't do anything of the kind!" exclaimed Mrs. Tolbridge, her eyes
sparkling. "How many times by night and by day has that woman called you
away on a fool's errand? It is likely as not that there is nothing more
the matter with her than there is with me. She has no right to worry the
life out of you in this way. She ought to have gone to heaven long ago."

"You shouldn't talk of my patients in that way, Kitty," said the doctor;
"and in the opinion of a good many of her neighbors the old lady is not
bound for heaven."

"I don't care where she is going, but one thing is certain: you are not
going to her this afternoon. You are not fit for it."

"You must remember, Kitty," said the doctor, "that Miss Panney is an old
lady, and though she may sound many a false alarm, the true alarm is to
be expected, and I would much prefer to go by daylight than to wait until
after supper. The roads are bad, the air is raw, and she would keep me
nobody knows how late. I want to go to bed early to-night."

"And that is what you are going to do," said Mrs. Tolbridge.

He looked at her inquiringly. "Harry," said she, "you have been up