on of a mountebank. Her grinning
good-humor, adopted no doubt to please the fools who are her patients,
and her impudent enjoyment of hearing herself talk, make me regret for
the first time in my life that I am a young lady. If I belonged to the
lowest order of the population, I might take the first stick I could
find, and enjoy the luxury of giving Mrs. Tenbruggen a good beating.

She literally haunts the house, encouraged, of course, by her wretched
little dupe, Miss Jillgall. Only this morning, I tried what a broad hint
would do toward suggesting that her visits had better come to an end.

"Really, Mrs. Tenbruggen," I said, "I must request Miss Jillgall to
moderate her selfish enjoyment of your company, for your own sake. Your
time is too valuable, in a professional sense, to be wasted on an
idle woman who has no sympathy with your patients, waiting for relief
perhaps, and waiting in vain."

She listened to this, all smiles and good-humor: "My dear, do you know
how I might answer you, if I was an ill-natured woman?"

"I have no curiosity to hear it, Mrs. Tenbruggen."

"I might ask you," she persisted, "to allow me to mind my own business.
But I am incapable of making an ungrateful return for the interest which
you take in my medical welfare. Let me venture to ask if you understand
the value of time."

"Are you going to say much more, Mrs. Tenbruggen?"

"I am going to make a sensible remark, my child. If you feel tired,
permit me--here is a chair. Father Time, dear Miss Gracedieu, has always
been a good friend of mine, because I know how to make the best use
of him. The author of the famous saying _Tempus fugit_ (you understand
Latin, of course) was, I take leave to think, an idle man. The more I
have to do, the readier Time is to wait for me. Let me impress this on
your mind by some interesting examples. The greatest conqueror of the
century--Napoleon--had time enough for everything. The greatest novelist
of the century--Sir Walter Scott--had time enough for everything. At my
humble distance, I imitate those illustrious men, and my patients never
complain of me."

"Have you done?" I asked.

"Yes, dear--for the present."

"You are a clever woman, Mrs. Tenbruggen and you know it. You have an
eloquent tongue, and you know it. But you are something else, which you
don't seem to be aware of. You are a Bore."

She burst out laughing, with the air of a woman who thoroughly enjoyed
a good joke. I looked back whe