If Kate had not been wrapt up in herself,
she would have seen that anxious distressed face.
There came a knock to the schoolroom door. It was Mr. Mercer, the
doctor, who always came to see Lady Jane twice a week, and startled
and alarmed, Lady Barbara sprang up. "Do you want me, Mr. Mercer?
I'll come."
"No, thank you," said the doctor, coming in. "It was only that I
promised I would look at this little lady, just to satisfy Lady Jane,
who does not think her quite well."
Kate's love of being important always made her ready to be looked at
by Mr. Mercer, who was a kind, fatherly old gentleman, not greatly
apt to give physic, very good-natured, and from his long attendance
more intimate with the two sisters than perhaps any other person was.
Lady Barbara gave an odd sort of smile, and said, "Oh! very well!"
and the old gentleman laughed as the two bright clear eyes met his,
and said, "No great weight there, I think! Only a geography fever,
eh? Any more giddy heads lately, eh? Or only when you make
cheeses?"
"I can't make cheeses now, my frocks are so short," said Kate, whose
spirits always recovered with the least change.
"No more dreams?"
"Not since I went to Bournemouth."
"Your tongue." And as Kate, who had a certain queer pleasure in the
operation, put out the long pinky member with its ruddier tip,
quivering like an animal, he laughed again, and said, "Thank you,
Lady Caergwent; it is a satisfaction once in a way to see something
perfectly healthy! You would not particularly wish for a spoonful of
cod-liver oil, would you?"
Kate laughed, made a face, and shook her head.
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