"If you please, doctor, I've come for you," he
cried; "the wife was taken bad at six o'clock."

He hardly knew what he expected the doctor to do.
Something very energetic, certainly--to seize some
drugs, perhaps, and rush excitedly with him through
the gaslit streets. Instead of that Dr. Miles threw
his umbrella into the rack, jerked off his hat with a
somewhat peevish gesture, and pushed Johnson back
into the room.

"Let's see! You DID engage me, didn't you?"
he asked in no very cordial voice.

"Oh, yes, doctor, last November. Johnson the
outfitter, you know, in the New North Road."

"Yes, yes. It's a bit overdue," said the doctor,
glancing at a list of names in a note-book with a
very shiny cover. "Well, how is she?"

"I don't----"

"Ah, of course, it's your first. You'll know
more about it next time."

"Mrs. Peyton said it was time you were there,
sir."

"My dear sir, there can be no very pressing hurry