And
then again, they would all come together and go about in a big party.
All but Dr. Fisher--he was for hospitals every time.
"That's what I've come for, wife," he would reply to all remonstrance,
"and don't ask me to put my head into a cathedral or a museum." To Mr.
King, "Land alive, man, I've got to find out how to take care of living
bodies before I stare at bones and relics," and Mr. King would laugh
and let him alone. "He's incorrigible, that husband of yours, Mrs.
Fisher," he would add, "and we must just let him have his way." And
Mamsie would smile, and every night the little doctor would tome from
his tramps and medical study, tired but radiant.
At last one morning Grandpapa said, "Now for Scheveningen to-day!"
"Oh, goody!" cried Polly, clapping her hands; then blushed as red as a
rose. They were at breakfast, and everybody in the vicinity turned and
stared at their table.
"Don't mind it, Polly," said Jasper, her next neighbour, "I want to do
the same thing. And it will do some of those starched and prim people
good to hear a little enthusiasm." Polly knew whom he meant,--some
young Englishmen. One of them immediately put up his monocle and
regarded her as if she had been a new kind of creature displayed for
his benefit. Jasper glared back at him.
"Yes, we'll go to Scheveningen this morning," repeated Mr. King,
smiling approvingly at poor Polly, which caused her to lift her head;
"the carriages are ordered, so as soon as we are through breakfast we
will be off.
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