They had not been long at the table when they were startled by the loud ringing of the door-bell.

“’Pon my word,” ejaculated Phoebe, “it’s a long time since that bell’s been rung,” and getting down a plate of hotter biscuit, with which she had been offering temptations, she left the room.  Presently she returned, ushering in Dr. Tolbridge.

Briefly introducing himself, the doctor welcomed the brother and sister to the neighborhood of Thorbury, and apologized for the extreme promptness of his call.

“I heard you had arrived,” he said, “from a hackman I met on the road, and having made a visit near by I thought I would look in on you.  It might be days before I should again have a chance.  But don’t let me disturb your supper; I beg that you will sit down again.”

“And I beg you, sir,” said Ralph, “to sit down with us.”

“Well,” said the doctor, smiling, “I am hungry, and my own supper-time is passed.  You seem to have plenty of room for a guest.”

“Oh, yes, indeed, sir,” said Miriam, who had already taken a fancy to the doctor’s genial face.  “Phoebe thought we were a large family, and you can take the seat of one of the grown-up sons, or the daughter’s chair, or the place that was intended for either the little boy or little girl, or perhaps you would like the governess’ seat.”

At this Phoebe turned her face to the wall and giggled.

“A fine imagination,” said the doctor, “and what is better, a bountiful meal.  Please consider me, for the present, the smallest boy, who might naturally be supposed to have the biggest appetite.”

“It would have been funnier,” said Miriam, gravely, “if you had been the governess.”

The supper was a lively one; the three appetites were excellent; the doctor was in his jolliest mood, and Ralph and Miriam were delighted with him.  On his part, he could not help looking upon it in the light of a joke—­an agreeable one, however—­that these two young people, one of them a mere child, should constitute the new Cobhurst family.  He had known that the property had gone to an unmarried man who was in business, and had not thought of his coming here to live.

“And now,” said the doctor, as they rose from the table, “I must go.  My wife will call on you very soon, and in the meantime, what is there that I can do for you?”

“I think,” answered Miriam, looking about her to see that Phoebe was not in the room, “that it would be very nice if you could get us a new man.  We like the woman well enough, but the man is awful.”

The doctor looked at her, astonished.

“Do you mean Mike?” he asked, “the faithful Mike, who has been in charge here ever since Mr. Butterwood took to travelling about for the good of his rheumatisms?  Why, my dear young lady, the whole country looks upon Mike as a pattern man-of-all-work.  He may be getting a little cranky and independent in his notions, for he has been pretty much his own master for years, but I am sure you could find no one to take his place who would be more trustworthy or so generally useful.”