In the stage the day he started for Philadelphia, William King read
over his Martha's memorandum with the bewildered carefulness peculiar
to good husbands: ten yards of crash; a pitcher for sorghum; samples
of yarn; an ounce of sachet-powder, and so forth.
"Now, what on earth does she want sachet-powder for?" he reflected.
But he did not reflect long; it suddenly came into his mind that
though Mrs. Richie had not given him any commission, he could
nevertheless do something for her. He could go, when he was in
Philadelphia, and call on her brother. "How pleased she'll be!" he
said to himself. Naturally, with this project in mind, he gave no more
thought to sachet-powders. He decided that he would turn up at Mr.
Pryor's house at six o'clock, and Pryor would ask him to supper. It
would save time to do that, and he needed to save time, for this one
day in Philadelphia was to be very busy. He had those errands for
Martha, and two medical appointments, and a visit to the tailor,--for
of late William thought a good deal about his clothes and discovered
that he was very shabby. He wished he had asked Mrs. Richie for her
brother's address; it took so long to look it up in the Directory.
Happily, the first name was unusual; there was only one Lloyd, or he
would have given up the search. He could not have called on all the
Johns or Thomases!
What with matching the yarn, and getting his drugs, and being terribly
cowed by the tailor, William had a hurried day. However, he managed to
reach Mr. Lloyd Pryor's house as the clock struck six. "Just in good
time," he said to himself, complacently. Indeed, he was ahead of time,
for it appeared that Mr. Pryor had not yet come home.
"But Miss Alice is in, sir," the smiling darky announced.
"Very well," said William King; "tell her 'Dr. King, from Old
Chester.'" He followed the man into a parlor that seemed to the
country doctor very splendid, and while he waited, he looked about
with artless curiosity, thinking that he must tell Martha of all this
grandeur. "No wonder she thinks we are stupid people in Old Chester,"
he thought. Now, certainly Martha had never had so disloyal a thought!
At that moment he heard a girlish step, and Lloyd Pryor's daughter
came into the room,--a pretty young creature, with blond hair parted
over a candid brow, and sweet, frank eyes.
"Dr. King?" she said smiling.