Ivy now. She is the one who held your hand and called you a
sunbeam. Gerald's mother, you know. Hat can't abide her; says she's a
pussy-cat. Of course Mr. Gooch will be here for supper."
"Who?"
"Mr. Gooch."
"A friend of the Doctor's?"
"No, indeed. He isn't anybody's friend. He bores us all to
extinction."
"Well, what's he coming for?"
"I don't know. He always comes on Friday. He came in here once to get
out of the rain, and Mother asked him to stay to tea. That was ten
years ago and he has been back nearly every Friday since."
"Do you have company like this all the time?" asked Miss Lady somewhat
breathlessly.
"This is nothing!" exclaimed Connie dramatically. "Before Myrtella
came I never knew what it was to sleep in my own bed, and I had to eat
the legs of chickens until I felt like a centipede. There! You are all
right; come along. Don't forget to tell Father about the party!"
Miss Lady had been married two weeks, but she was still circling
wildly in a vortex of new experiences that excited and bewildered her.
Through a long, lonely winter she had fought out her problems at the
little country school, relying implicitly upon Doctor Queerington's
friendship and guidance.
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