swallow two cups, munch their bread or toast, and then disappear. This
night Mr. Gibson watched their countenances furtively from under his
long eye-lashes, while he tried against his wont to keep up a _degage_
manner, and a brisk conversation on general subjects. He saw that Mr.
Wynne was on the point of breaking out into laughter, and that red-
haired, red-faced Mr. Coxe was redder and fiercer than ever, while his
whole aspect and ways betrayed indignation and anger.

'He will have it, will he?' thought Mr. Gibson to himself; and he
girded up his loins for the battle. He did not follow Molly and Miss
Eyre into the drawing-room as he usually did. He remained where he was,
pretending to read the newspaper, while Bethia, her face swelled up
with crying, and with an aggrieved and offended aspect, removed the
tea-things. Not five minutes after the room was cleared, came the
expected tap at the door. 'May I speak to you, sir?' said the invisible
Mr. Coxe, from outside.

'To be sure. Come in, Mr. Coxe. I was rather wanting to talk to you
about that bill of Corbyn's. Pray sit down.'

'It is about nothing of that kind, sir, that I wanted--that I wished--
No, thank you--I would rather not sit down.' He, accordingly, stood in
offended dignity. 'It is about that letter, sir--that letter with the
insulting prescription, sir.'

'Insulting prescription! I am surprised at such a word being applied to
any prescription of mine--though, to be sure, patients are sometimes
offended at being told the nature of their illnesses; and, I dare say,
they may take offence at the medicines which their cases require.'