Ye gods and little
fishes! Is it, forsooth, splitting straws to maintain that there can
be no sympathy of soul between a woman doctor who takes you at your
word and administers castor-oil to cure your stomach-ache and one who
elevates her nose and vows that you haven't one?
"You can't make fish of one and flesh of another," continued my wife,
majestically. "The mischief was done when they walked arm-in-arm for
weeks together while they were becoming intimate. It makes little
difference, it seems to me, as to the precise nature of the
development. If Winona hadn't embraced (as she calls it) Christian
Science, she would in all probability have worn bloomers, in which case
I should not have held Dr. Cora Jacket guiltless merely because that
young woman continued to wear petticoats. Neither do I in the present
emergency. Who was it introduced Winona to Mrs. Titus, I should like
to know?"
"Was Miss Jacket responsible for that?" I inquired, respectfully, not
venturing to contest further the soundness of my wife's logic in her
present excited frame of mind.
"She was indeed, and it is very little consolation to me that she
professes to be sorry for it now." Josephine tapped her foot with a
worried air, which found voice presently in a laugh born of sheer
desperation.
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