He walked quietly toward them, put a lozenge in the mouth of one and felt the pulse of the other, gazing critically at both.
"We will be all right in a moment," he said with professional confidence.
"I say!" said Fitz-Fulke, gazing at the doctor's costume, "you look dooced smart in those togs, don'tcherknow." "They suit me," said the doctor, with a playful swish of his birch twigs, at which the two grave men shuddered.

"But you were speaking of somebody's beautiful eyes." "The Princess Zut-Ski's," returned McFeckless eagerly; "and this daft callant said"-- "He didn't like them," put in Fitz-Fulke promptly.
"Ha!" said the doctor sharply, "and why not, sir ?" As Fitz-Fulke hesitated, he added brusquely: "There! Run away and play! I've business with this young man," pointing to McFeckless.
As Fitz-Fulke escaped gladly from the room, the doctor turned to McFeckless.

"It won't do, my boy.

The Princess is not for you--you'll only break your heart and ruin your family over her! That's my advice.
Chuck her!" "But I cannot," said McFeckless humbly.

"Think of her weirdly beautiful eyes." "I see," said the doctor meditatively; "sort of makes you feel creepy?
Kind of all-overishness, eh?
That's like her.