“Oh,” with superb disdain, “that’s just for women.  If they can’t wait for dinner they get bread and butter and tea in the afternoon.  But they have to eat it walking around and they only get it when they go out to call.”

Ann sighed.  “I’d like to live in the city,” she murmured.  “Say, don’t you feel as if you’d like a cookie right now?”

Bubble squirmed.  But his Spartan fortitude held.

“In business hours?  No, thank you.  ’Tisn’t professional.  Look silly, wouldn’t I, if one of our patients caught me eating?”

“How many to-day?”

“That’d be telling.  ’Tisn’t professional to tell.  Doctor says if a man wants to succeed, he’s got to be as dumb as a noyster in business!”

“Pshaw!” said Ann, “Aunty’ll tell.  She always counts.  Then you don’t want a cookie?”

“Well—­later on—­Cricky! here’s some one coming!  You scoot—­pike it!”

“I won’t!” Ann stood her ground, peering eagerly around the rose bush.  “It’s only Esther Coombe.  She’ll be coming to see Aunt—­no—­she’s coming here!  Hi, Bubble, wake him up—­quick!”

“Hum, Hum!” said Bubble in a loud voice, rattling a chair.  The sleeper made no movement.

Ann, brave through anxiety, flew across the room and shook him with all the strength of her small hands.  The heavy lids lifted and still Ann shook.

“Is it an earthquake?” asked the victim politely.

“No—­it’s a patient!  Oh, do get up.  Oh, goodness gracious, look at your hair!”

The doctor passed his hand absently over a disordered head.  “Yes,” he said, “I have always thought that shaking is not good for hair.  Dear me!  I believe I have been asleep!”

Ann threw him a glance of mingled admiration and reproach and vanished through the parlour door just as the step of the patient sounded upon the stone steps.

“Why, Bubble Burk!” said a voice.  “What are you doing here?”

At the sound of the voice, sleep fled from the doctor’s eyes.  He arose precipitately.

“I’m workin’,” Bubble’s voice was not as confident as usual.  “This here is Dr. Callandar’s office.  Mrs. Sykes’ visitors go round to the front door.”

“Oh!  But it’s the doctor I wish to see.  Is he in?”

Bubble was now plainly agitated.

“If you’ll just wait a moment, I’ll—­I’ll see.”

Leaving Esther smiling upon the steps he disappeared into the shaded office and pulled up the blinds.  The couch had been decorously straightened.  The office was empty!  Bubble gave a sigh of relief and his professional manner returned.

“He isn’t just what you might call in,” he explained affably to Esther.  “But he’ll be down directly.  Walk in.”

Esther walked in and took the seat which Bubble indicated.

“Somebody sick over at your house?” with ill-concealed hope.

Esther dimpled.  “Not dangerously, thank you.”

“Then it’s just tickets for the choir concert.  I might have known.  But you’re too late.  Doctor’s got half a dozen already.  He—­”