He had been in the little town very often since
his return, but never before when free from pain or with the pleasant
consciousness that he had it in his power to be to these friends of his
childhood what the Colonel had been. He talked to Joe Grace, left a
message for Pole's son, and then rode on to his appointment.
He sat down with father and son in the unchanged surroundings of the
untidy office; even the flies were busy as before on the old man's
tempting bald head.
"Well, John," said the doctor, "what's up now? The Squire won't see me at
all." Tom sat still and listened.
"There are two things to consider, and I want your advice; but, first, I
want to say that there is no head to that family. I wonder how Leila
stands it. I mean that your advice shall be taken about a consultation
with Prof. Askew."
"You want my advice? Do you, indeed! Mrs. Penhallow will ask the
Colonel's opinion, he will swear, and the matter is at an end."
"I mean to have that consultation," said John. Tom laughed and nodded
approval.
"It's no use, John, none," said the older man.
"We shall see about that. Do you approve?--that is my question."
"If that's the form of advice you want, why, of course--yes--but count me
out."
"Count me in, John," said the younger surgeon.
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