ney, "and as for Dr. Tolbridge's visits to me doing him any
harm, it is all stuff and nonsense. They do him good; they rest him; they
brighten him up. He's never livelier than when he is with me. He doesn't
have to hang over me all the night, giving me this and that, to keep the
breath in my body, when he ought to be taking the rest that he needs more
than any of us."

Mrs. Tolbridge laughed. "No, indeed," said she, "he never has to do
anything of that kind for you. I believe you are the healthiest
patient he has."

"That may be," said the other, "and it is much to his credit, and to
mine, too. I know when I want a doctor. I don't send for him when I am
in the last stages of anything. But we won't talk anything more about
that. I want to know all about your husband. Do you think he is really
out of health?"

"No," said Mrs. Tolbridge, "he is simply overworked, and needs rest. Just
the sort of rest I hope he is getting this afternoon."

"Nonsense," said Miss Panney; "rest is well enough, but you must give him
more than that if you do not want to see him break down. You must give
him good victuals. Rest, without the best of food, amounts to little in
his case."

"Truly, Miss Panney!" exclaimed her visitor, "I think I give my husband
as good living as any one in Thorbury has or can expect."

"Humph!" said the old lady. "He may have all that, and yet be starving
before your eyes. There isn't a man, woman, or child, in or about
Thorbury, who really lives well--excepting, perhaps, myself."

Mrs. Tolbridge smiled. "I think you do manage to live very well,
Miss Panney."

"Yes," said the other, "and I'd like to manage to have my friends live
well, too. By the way, did you ever make rum-flake for the doctor when
he comes in tired and faint?"

"I never heard of it," replied the other.

"I thought as much," said Miss Panney. "Well, you take the whites of two
eggs and beat them up, and while you are beating you sprinkle rum over
the egg, from a pepper caster, which you ought to keep clean to use for
this and nothing else. Then you should sift in sugar according to taste,
and when you have put a dry macaroon, which has been soaking in rum all
this time, in the bottom of a glass saucer, you pile the flake over it,
and it's ready for him, except that sometimes you put in,--let me see!--a
little orange juice, I think, but I've got the recipe there in my
scrap-book, and I can find it in a minute." So saying, the old lady thre