"Oh, will it nauseate me?" cried Hazel, dreading to suffer any more.
"No, no, it won't do that, but—"
"But what do you mean, Doctor Heath? Are you joking?"
"Never was more in earnest in my life," replied the Doctor, rubbing his hands in glee, much to Hazel's amazement. "Hazel," he turned abruptly to her, "papa is a splendid fellow; did you know that?"
Hazel laughed aloud, a real girl's laugh,-Doctor Heath was so queer at times.
"Have you just found that out?" she retorted.
"No, you witch,—don't be impertinent to your elders,—I haven't; but really he is, take it all in all, just about the most common-sense fellow in New York City."
"What has he done now, that you are praising him so?"
"Just heard to me, my dear, and agreed to do just as I want him to," said the Doctor, demurely.
"Why," laughed Hazel, "that's just when I think he is a most splendid fellow, when he does just what I want him to. Isn't it funny you and I think just alike!" And she gave his hand a malicious little pat. The Doctor caught the five slender digits and held them fast.
"Now we're agreed that you have the most splendid, common-sense father in the world, I want you to prove to me that your father has the most splendid, common-sense daughter in it, as well."
Again Hazel laughed. She was used to her friend's ways.
