Mrs. Matthewman remarked significantly
that it must be nice to be the wife of a medical man--one would always
have the safe feeling of a doctor at hand in case anything happened at
night! Eleanor said it was a beautiful profession that had for its
object the alleviation of human pain. Freddy jealously tried to get in a
good word for boxers, but nobody would listen to her except me. It was
all Jones, Jones, Jones, and the triumphs of modern medicine. Altogether
he sailed through that whole day with flying colors, first with the
housemaid, and then afterward at church, where he was the only one that
knew what Sunday after Epiphany it was. He made it plainer than ever
that he was a model young man and a pattern. Mrs. Matthewman compared
him to her departed husband, and talked about old-fashioned courtesy and
the splendid men of her youth. Everybody fell over everybody else to
praise him. It was a regular Jones boom. People began to write down his
address, and ask him if he'd be free Thursday, or what about Friday, and
started to book seats in advance.
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