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Riley hoisted her chin. "I dunno if she's a-seein' comp'ny to-day." The voice was amiably important. "Wont ye walk in? Take a seat and sit down, sur, and I'll go and infarm the laydie." "Thank you," said the Doctor, but continued to stand. Mrs. Riley started and stopped again. "Ye forgot to give me yer kyaird, sur." She drew her chin in again austerely. "Just say Dr. Sevier."
"Certainly, sur; yes, that'll be sufficiend. And dispinse with the kyaird." She went majestically. The Doctor, left alone, cast his uninterested glance around the smart little bare-floored parlor, upon its new, jig-sawed, gray hair-cloth furniture, and up upon a picture of the Pope. When Mrs. Riley, in a moment, returned he stood looking out the door. "Mrs. Richling consints to see ye, sur.
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