He knew his was a useless mission, but he wasn't going to shirk it.

The doctor would snub him and tell him to mind his own affairs; "but"-- so said the hero to himself--"what do I care?
I'll tell him a piece of my mind, and if he like to tell me a piece of his, that's only fair.

Here goes!" The doctor was engaged in his study, said the servant; but if Mr Smedley would step into the drawing-room he would come in a few minutes.
Smedley stepped into the dimly-lighted drawing-room accordingly, which, to his consternation, he found already had an occupant.

The doctor's niece was at the piano.
Smedley, for once in a way, behaved like a coward, and having advanced a step or two into the room, suddenly turned tail and retreated.
"Don't go, Mr Smedley," said a pleasant voice behind him.

"Uncle will be here in a minute." "Oh, I--good-evening, Miss Violet.