“When I happened to say to that naughty thing, the other day,” pursued her mother, shaking her head and her fan at her, playfully, “that there was a family circumstance she might mention to you⁠—indeed, I think, was bound to mention⁠—she said, that to mention it was to ask a favour; and that, as you were too generous, and as for her to ask was always to have, she wouldn’t.”

“Annie, my dear,” said the Doctor. “That was wrong. It robbed me of a pleasure.”

“Almost the very words I said to her!” exclaimed her mother. “Now really, another time, when I know what she would tell you but for this reason, and won’t, I have a great mind, my dear Doctor, to tell you myself.”

“I shall be glad if you will,” returned the Doctor.

“Shall I?”

“Certainly.”