"Oh, no, no! I shall be only too glad of your help, and your"--he was
going to say advice, but he stopped himself, and repeated--"help."

They stood inconclusively a moment, as if they would both be glad of
something more to say. Then she said tentatively, "Good-morning," and
he responded experimentally, "Good-morning"; and with that they
involuntarily parted, and she went out of the door, which he stood
holding open even after she had got out of the gate.

His mother came down the stairs. "What in the world were you quarrelling
with that girl about, Rufus?"

"We were not quarrelling, mother."

"Well, it sounded like it. Who was she?

"Who?" repeated her son absently. "Dr. Breen."

"Doctor Breen? That girl a doctor?"

"Yes."

"I thought she was some saucy thing. Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs.
Mulbridge. "So that is a female doctor, is it? Was she sick?"

"No," said her son, with what she knew to be professional finality."
Mother, if you can hurry dinner a little, I shall be glad. I have to
drive over to Jocelyn's, and I should like to start as soon as possible."