"
The words were flippant; but the tears were near the surface. Billy
interposed, for he saw Theodora's color come, and he knew that the rug,
his own contribution to her college room, was one of her dearest
possessions. He shook his head at the six-pound culprit who stood before
him, waggling his stumpy tail in smug satisfaction over the success of
his undertaking.
"Change his name to Nimrod, Cis," he said gravely; "and send for Babe to
mend her first emergency case."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Where is Babe?" Dr. McAlister asked, one noon in late May.
"Here." Phebe's voice came from the piazza outside.
"Can you ride over to Bannook Bars, this afternoon?"
"Yes, I suppose so. What for?"
"As substitute for me. Mrs. Richardson has consumed all her pills, and
she wants some more."
"Why doesn't she get them, then? You're not an apothecary."
"She refuses to take them, unless I inspect them personally. These are
the patients who try one's soul, Babe. I would rather deal with Asiatic
cholera than with one fussy old woman with a digestion. They eat hot
bread and fried steak, and then they eat pepsin."
"Start a cooking crusade," Phebe suggested lazily. "Well, I'll go."
"Thank you. You need the ride anyway; it will do you good, for you have
been working too hard lately. I don't want my apprentice to wear herself
out.
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