John Bellingham's Will

"I've brought you this from Mr. Bellingham," she said. "There's a note inside."

"May I read the note, Miss Oman?" I asked.

"Bless the man!" she exclaimed. "What else would you do with it? Isn't that what I brought it for?"

I supposed it was; and, thanking her for her gracious permission, I glanced through the note--a few lines authorising me to show the copy of the will to Dr. Thorndyke. When I looked up from the paper I found her eyes fixed on me with an expression critical and rather disapproving.

"You seem to be making yourself mighty agreeable in a certain quarter," she remarked.

"I make myself universally agreeable. It is my nature to."

"Ha!" she snorted.

"Don't you find me rather agreeable?" I asked.

"Oily," said Miss Oman. And then, with a sour smile at the open note-books, she remarked: "You've got some work to do now; quite a change for you."

"A delightful change, Miss Oman. 'For Satan findeth'--but no doubt you are acquainted with the philosophical works of Doctor Watts?"

"If you are referring to 'idle hands,'" she replied, "I'll give you a bit of advice, Don't you keep that hand idle any longer than is really necessary. I have my suspicions about that splint--oh, you know what I mean," and before I had time to reply, she had taken advantage of the entrance of a couple of patients to whisk out of the surgery with the abruptness that had distinguished her arrival.