“Impossible!”

“I’ll show you my ledger, if that will satisfy you, where every visit is entered.”

“No, it’s no use to do that.  I know that you have been called in pretty often, but not frequently enough to make a bill like this.”

“How many night-visits do you suppose I have made to your family, during the year?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.  Not more than three or four.”

“I’ve made ten!”

“You must be mistaken, doctor.”

“Do you remember that I was called in last February, when you thought Charley had the croup?”

“Yes.”

“And the night after?”

“Yes.  That’s but two.”

“And the night you thought he had the measles?”

“Yes.”

“And the night after?”

“Yes.  But that’s only four.”

“And the three times he fell out of bed?”

“Not three times, doctor!”

“Yes, it was three times.  Don’t you recollect the knob on his head?”

“Yes, indeed!”

“And the sprained finger?”

“Yes.”

“And the bruised cheek?”

“Well, I believe you are right about that, doctor.  But that don’t make ten times.”

“You have not forgotten, of course, the night he told you he had swallowed a pin?”

“No, indeed,” said the father, turning pale.  “Do you think there is any danger to be apprehended from its working its way into the heart, doctor?”

“None at, all, I should think.  And you remember”—­

“Never mind, doctor, I suppose you are right about that.  But how can ten visits make one hundred and fifty dollars?”

“They will make fifty, though, and that is one-third of the bill.”

“You don’t pretend to charge five dollars a visit, though, doctor?”

“For all visits after ten o’clock at night, we are allowed by law to charge five dollars.”

“Outrageous!”

“Would you get up out of your warm bed after midnight, turn out in a December storm, and walk half a mile for five dollars?”

“I can’t say that I would.  But then it’s your business.”

“Of course it is, and I must be paid for it.”

“Any how, doctor, that don’t account for the whole of this exorbitant bill.”

“But one hundred day and evening visits here on my ledger will, though.”

“You don’t pretend to say you have paid my family a hundred visits, certainly?”

“I will give you day and date for them, if necessary.”

“No, it’s no use to do that,” said Mr. Marvel, whose memory began to be a little more active.  “I’ll give you a hundred dollars, and say no more about it; that is enough, in all conscience.”

“I can’t do any such thing, Mr. Marvel.  I have charged you what was right, and can take nothing off.  What would you think of a man who had made a bill at your store of one hundred and fifty dollars, if he were to offer you one hundred when he came to pay, and ask for a receipt in full?”