At this moment she glanced through the open window and saw Miss Panney at the front gate.  Closing her desk, Mrs. Tolbridge pushed back her chair, her glow of satisfaction changing into a little chill.

“Is the doctor at home?” she inquired of the servant who was passing the door, and on receiving the negative reply, the chilly feeling increased.

Miss Panney was in a radiant humor.  She seated herself in her favorite rocking-chair; she laid her fan on the table near her and her reticule by it, and she pushed back from her shoulders a little India shawl.

“I am treating myself,” she said, “to a regular gala day; in the first place, I intend to stay here to luncheon.  People who have a La Fleur must expect to see their friends at their table much oftener than if they had a Biddy in the kitchen.  That is one of the penalties of good fortune.  I have my cap in my bag, and as soon as I have cooled a little I will take off my bonnet and shawl.  This afternoon I am going to see the Bannisters, and after that I intend to call on Mrs. Drane and her daughter.  I put off that until the last in order that Miss Drane may be at home.  I ought to have called on them before, considering that I did so much in getting them established in Thorbury,—­I am sure Mrs. Brinkly would not have taken them if I had not talked her into it,—­but one thing and another has prevented my going there.  But I have seen Miss Drane; I came to town yesterday in the Witton carriage, and saw her in the street.  She is certainly a pretty little thing, and dresses with much taste.  We all thought her face was very sweet and attractive.  We had a good look at her, for she was waiting for our carriage to pass, in order to cross the street.  I told Jim, the driver, to go slowly, for I like to have a good look at people before I know them.  And by the way, Kitty, an idea comes into my head,” and as she said this, the old lady’s eyes twinkled, and a little smile stole over the lower part of her wrinkled face.  “Perhaps you may not like the doctor to have such an extremely pretty secretary.  Perhaps you may have preferred her to have a stubby nose and a freckled face.  How is that, Kitty?”

“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Tolbridge.  “It makes no manner of difference what sort of a face a secretary has; her handwriting is much more important.”

“Oh,” said Miss Panney, “I am glad to hear that.  And how does she get on?”

“Very well indeed,” was the answer; “the doctor seems satisfied with her work.”

“That is nice,” said Miss Panney, “and how do they like it at Mrs. Brinkly’s?  I saw their rooms, which are neatly furnished, and Mrs. Brinkly keeps a very good table.  I have taken many a meal at her house.”

Had there been a column of mercury at Mrs. Tolbridge’s back, it would have gone down several degrees, as she prepared to answer Miss Panney’s question.  She did not exactly hesitate, but she was so slow in beginning to speak, that Miss Panney, who was untying her bonnet-strings, had time to add, reflectively, “Yes, they are sure to find her a good landlady.”