"The maid," explained Mrs. Whitmore; "though, for that matter, there
might as well be no maid--the girls never let her do a thing for me."

"No?" returned the doctor easily, sure now of where he stood. "But you
don't expect me to interfere in this housekeeping business!"

"Somebody must," urged Mrs. Whitmore. "The girls must leave me more. It
isn't as if we were poor and couldn't hire nurses and maids. I should
die if it were like that, and I were such a burden."

"Mother, dearest!" broke in Margaret feverishly, with an
imploring glance toward her sister and the doctor.

"Oh, by the way," interposed the doctor airily, "it has occurred to me
that the very object of my visit to-day is right along the lines of what
you ask. I want Miss Margaret to go driving with me. I have a call to
make out Washington Heights way."

"Oh, but--" began Margaret, and paused at a gesture from her mother.

"There aren't any 'buts' about it," declared Mrs. Whitmore. "Meg shall
go."

"Of course she'll go!" echoed Katherine. And with three against her,
Margaret's protests were in vain.

* * * * *

Mrs. Whitmore was nervous that night. She could not sleep.