Lanse, my boy, this is too bad. Doctor Churchill--very
glad to see you again. Decided to settle out here, eh? Well, on some
accounts I think you're wise. Charlotte, little girl, cheer up! There
are worse things than a fractured patella--I believe that's what you
called the injury, Doctor Churchill."
In such genial fashion the surgeon and old friend of the family made his
entry, bringing with him that atmosphere which men of his profession
carry about with them, making the people who have been anxiously
awaiting them feel that here is somebody who knows how to take things
coolly, and is not upset at the notion of a broken bone.
He moved deliberately up-stairs toward Celia's room, listening to the
younger physician's statement of the conditions under which he had been
called, turning at the door to smile and nod back at Charlotte, who
watched him from the top of the staircase with serious eyes.
At the end of what seemed like a long period of time the two physicians
came down-stairs together, meeting Lanse at the foot.
"Well, sir," said Doctor Forester, "so far, so good.
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