In the house there dwelt a sort of doctor. Surja Mukhi was the house-mistress. Sitting behind the purdah (a half-transparent screen) she held converse with everyone, the person addressed remaining in the verandah. Calling the doctor, Surja Mukhi said—
"The Babu is not well; why do you not give him medicine?"
"Is he ill? I did not know of it; I have heard nothing."
"Has not the Babu told you?"
"No; what is the matter?"
"What is the matter? Are you a doctor, and do you ask that? Do I know?"
The doctor was nonplussed, and saying, "I will go and inquire," he was about to leave; but Surja Mukhi, calling him back, said, "Do not ask the Babu about it; give him some medicine."
The doctor thought this a peculiar sort of treatment; but there was no lack of medicine in the house, and going to the dispensary, he composed a draught of soda, port-wine, and some simple
