"Is that all?" he said. "Well--of course that's not professional.
Very likely the physician there will send a written diagnosis if you
ask him. You see, Miss Blyth, this is very interesting to me. I want
to make a study of nerves,--that's all the word means, disordered
nerves,--and it will be the greatest pleasure to me to try to be of
service to your niece; if you should wish it, that is."

"Oh, Doctor Strong! you are _too_ kind!" said both ladies in duet.

They were so relieved, they overflowed in little grateful courtesies.
He must have more cream; he was eating nothing. They feared his egg
was not quite--was he positively sure? it would sometimes happen,
with the greatest care, that eggs were not quite--a little scrap
more bacon, then! or would he fancy some fresh cream cheese? and so
on and so on, till the young doctor cried out, and said that if he
ate any more he should not be able to mount his bicycle, far less
ride it.

"By the way," he added, "I didn't see you when I came in last night.
I hope I didn't disturb either of you. No? That's right; if I ever
make a noise coming in late, shoot me at sight, please. You took the
powder, Miss Blyth? and slept well? Hurrah! Well, I was going to say,
I had a rather amusing time at Shellback."

Shellback was a village some ten miles off, whither he had been
summoned the evening before. Both ladies brightened up. They
delighted to hear of the young doctor's experiences.

"I don't suppose you know," Doctor Strong went on,--"no, you
wouldn't be likely to,--an old man named Butters, Ithuriel Butters?