"You must wait for ten, or fifteen minutes longer," she remarked, on
returning from the kitchen. "One sleeve was completely wetted
through, and I have turned it in order to get the lining dry."

I sat down and took Agnes on my lap, and was just getting into a
pleasant talk with her, when the door-bell rung. A shadow fell
across my wife's face.

"People are thoughtless of Doctors," she remarked, a little
fretfully, "and often choose the worst weather and the most untimely
seasons to send for them."

I did not answer, but listened as the boy went to the door. Some one
was admitted, and shown into the office.

"Who is it?" I enquired, as Joseph came to the sitting-room.

"Mrs. Wallingford."

My wife and I exchanged glances. She looking grave and curious; but
no remark was made.

"Good-evening, Mrs. Wallingford," said I, on entering my office.
"This is a very bad night for a lady to come out. I hope no one is
seriously ill."

"I wish you would come over and see our Henry, Doctor."

There was a choking tremor in her voice; and as I looked in her