For you and the doctor are just as different as chalk and
cheese."
"Of course I have--as happy as the day's long!" cried Mary, sensitive
as ever to a reflection on her husband. "You mustn't think anything like
that, Tilly. I couldn't imagine myself married to anyone but Richard."
"Then that only makes it harder for you now, poor thing, pulled two ways
like, as you are," said Tilly, and trumpeted afresh. "All the same,
there isn't anything I'd stick at, Mary, to keep you here. Don't be
offended, my dear, but it doesn't matter half so much about the doctor
going as you. There's none cleverer than 'im, of course, in 'is own
line. But 'e's never fitted in properly here--I don't want to exactly
say 'e thinks 'imself too good for us; but there is something, Mary
love, and I'm not the only one who's felt it. I've known people go on
like anything about 'im behind 'is back: nothing would induce them to
have 'im and 'is haughty airs inside their doors again, etcetera."
Mary flushed. "Yes, I know, people do sometimes judge Richard very
unkindly. For at heart he's the most modest of men. It's only his
manner. And he can't help that, can he?"
"There are those who say a doctor ought to be able to, my dear.--But
never mind him. Oh, it's you I feel for, Mary, being dragged off like
this. Can't you DO anything, dear? Put your foot down?"
Mary shook her head. "It's no use. Richard is so . . . well, so queer in
some ways, Tilly.
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