"
"They consider a good many things professional which are only stupid. Let
me see it."
Mrs. Cathcart, thrown off her guard, gave it to her. Adela tore it in
fragments, and threw it in a little storm on the floor.
"Adela!" screamed Mrs. Cathcart. "What is to be done?"
"Pay Dr. Wade his fee, and tell him I shall never be too ill to refuse his
medicines. Now, aunt! You find I am determined.--I declare you make me
behave so ill that I am ashamed of myself."
Here the poor impertinent child crept under the clothes, and fell
a-weeping bitterly. Mrs. Cathcart had sense enough to see that nothing
could be done, and retired to her room. Getting weary of her own society
after a few moments of solitude, she proceeded to go down-stairs. But
half-way down, she was met full in the face by Harry Armstrong ascending
two steps at a time. He had already met Dr. Wade, as he came out of the
dining-room, where he had been having an interview with the colonel. Harry
had turned, and held out his hand with a "How do you do, Dr. Wade?" But
that gentleman had bowed with the utmost stiffness, and kept his hand at
home.
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