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"And she looked handsome, did she?" inquired Gus, as he noticed the impatience of his friend.

"Hech! ye may say that, laddie. Deil a bonnier las ivir I clapt my ain twa een on. An' a doot if she winna load him wi' compliments when he ca's to see her, judgin' frae the message. I'm mair nor half sartin that—"

"But," shouted Fred, in his irritation seizing the doctor by the shoulder, and wheeling him round like a top, "what was the message, you old son of Galen?"

"Hech, sirs! Laird protect us! who ivir heerd mair nor that?" gasped the little doctor, panting for breath, which his extempore waltz had nearly shaken out of his body; "spinnin' a respectable auld body lek me roun' as if I was a tap. 'Twad na be every laddie wad dae sic a dirty trick. Hech! I'm fairly oot o' breath."

"It's excessively aggravating, no doubt," said Gus, soothingly, "but you must pardon my unhappy young friend here, he is a little flighty at times, but perfectly harmless—"

Fred groaned.

"—But when very impatient," continued Gus, secretly enjoying his friend's despair, "he is rather violent. Therefore, my dear doctor, you had better tell him the young lady's message—when I have no doubt, these alarming symptoms will vanish."