that he never knew it. The universal lady is always MISS So-and-so.
Even the most ardent of twelve-year-olds never forgets that his
heart's desire is a lady whose years demand the most respectful
consideration. Dr. Fiddler, having loved and lost, should have
appreciated the tender passion that took away Frederick's appetite and
made of him a melancholy sufferer. What Frederick needed was the moral
support of a physician who would recommend and supply a quick and
deadly poison with which Mr. Richard Flanders could be permanently
squashed.

Melissa was his only friend and comforter. The children, and the
servants who were not too busily engaged with their own affairs,
openly scoffed at the love-sick young gentleman. Wilberforce sustained
a bloody nose in retaliation and Watson, being a special offender, met
with a painful and unaccountable accident one day while passing
between the kitchen and the milk-house. A full-sized brick dropped
from heaven knows where--(it must have come from heaven judging by the
way it felt)--and as Watson's hat happened to be directly in the path
of its descent the unfortunate footman was unable to tease Frederick
for the better part of two days immediately thereafter and had to have
six stitches taken in his head besides. Oddly enough, the only place
from which a brick was found to be missing was in the walk leading to
the stables, and Butts, being a thrifty soul, filled up the vacant
spot with the heaven-sent substitute, having found on investigation
that it fitted the vacuum perfectly. It was Melissa who kept Watson
from taking out a warrant for young Master Frederick. She spoke very
sharply to the damaged footman about something that had completely
escaped the notice of Mr. Bingle, who, being no smoker, wouldn't have
missed them if Watson had taken a whole handful of cigars a day
instead of two or three twice a week the year round.