Dora was a great favorite with the doctor.  He had known her all her life, and considered that he knew, not only her good points, of which there were many, but also those that were not altogether desirable, and, of which, he believed, there were few.  One of the latter was her disposition to sometimes do as she pleased, without reference to tradition or ordinary custom.  He had seen her acting the part of cook, disguised by a pink sunbonnet and an old-fashioned calico gown.  And what pranks she and the Haverleys—­two estimable young people, but also lively and independent—­might play, no one could tell.  The duration of Dora’s visit would depend on her brother Herbert, and he was a man of business, whose time was not at all at his own disposal, and so, the doctor thought, it would not be a bad thing if Miss Panney would call at Cobhurst the next day, and see what those three youngsters were about.

The Wittons had gone to bed, but Miss Panney was in the parlor, reading.  “Early to bed and early to rise,” was not one of her rules.

“Well, really!” she exclaimed, as she rose to greet her visitor, “this is amazing.  How many years has it been since you came to see me without being sent for?”

“I do not keep account of years,” said the doctor, “and if I choose to stop in and have a chat with you, I shall do it without reference to precedent.  This is a purely social call, and I shall not even ask you how you are.”

“I beg you will not,” said the old lady, “and that will give me a good reason for sending for you when you ought to be informed on that point.”

“This is not my first social call this evening,” said he.  “I took supper at Cobhurst, where Dora Bannister waited on the table.”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Miss Panney, and then the doctor told his tale.  As the old lady listened, her spirits rose higher and higher.  What extraordinary good luck!  She had never planned a match that moved with such smoothness, such celerity, such astonishing directness as this.  She did not look upon Dora’s disregard of tradition and ordinary custom as an undesirable point in her character.  She liked that sort of thing.  It was one of the points in her own character.

“I wish I could have seen her!” she exclaimed.  “She must have been charming.”

“Don’t you think there is danger that she may be too charming?” the doctor asked.

“No, I don’t,” promptly answered Miss Panney.

The doctor looked at her in some surprise.

“We should remember,” said he, “that Dora is a girl of wealth; that one-third of the Bannister estate belongs to her, besides the sixty thousand dollars that came to her from her mother.”

“That does not hurt her,” said Miss Panney.

“And Ralph Haverley was a poor young man when he came here, and Cobhurst will probably make him a good deal poorer.”

“I do not doubt it,” said Miss Panney.