Doctor's Orders Read Online Free Page B

“I couldn’t see eye to eye with him on his ideas about the Far East,” and that plunged them back into discussion.
    Dr. Frederic leaned back, his brief case on the seat beside him, his mind still full of all that had been said during the conference, and tried to relax. There was a long drive before him, and this was an opportunity to take a little much-needed rest. He first made a few notes of points that he specially wished to take up, then he put away his notebook, folded his arms and closed his eyes.
    It was when the car drove through the first of the lighted towns they would traverse on their way home, that he realized that it would pass through the town where Richard Wellis’s daughter was staying. At the Splendide, he thought. It might be a polite gesture to stop there for a few minutes, make her acquaintance and inform her of the appointment that had been made for her. He spoke to Gerhardt, and some time later, the car drew up before the brightly-lit entrance of the Splendide. Colored lights were playing on the fountain, and Dr. Frederic watched it for a few moments, thinking it a pretty, delicate thing. Then he turned to go into the hotel.
    “Will you dine here, sir?” asked Gerhardt.
    “No, I think not. It will be nicer to go home for dinner,” said the doctor. Gerhardt nodded, quite agreeing, for he had a great fondness for the doctor’s cook, Maria.
    Dr. Frederic went to the desk, and the receptionist telephoned to Miss Wellis’s room. She was not there, but the page who was called said confidently that she was in the lounge. Dr. Frederic followed the page to the lounge, but Miss Wellis was not there. The lounge waiter, hearing her name called, said Miss Wellis was in the cocktail bar, and the doctor once more patiently followed the page into the cocktail bar. Here there was quite a crowd. The quiet dignity of the lounge had given way to a lively noise of conversation, sprinkled with laughter and occasional high-pitched protest. “Mees Vellis,” railed the little page, and, because of the prevailing noise, had to call two or three times. The doctor looked about him. This was indeed a different atmosphere from the one in the conference room; before-dinner aperitifs were being taken, and the air was thick with cigarette and cigar smoke. Nearly everybody was in evening dress, the black of the men’s clothes contrasting with the bare shoulders and bright colors of the women, and expensive perfumes mingled to lend a headiness to the air, already so smoke-filled. Dr. Frederic felt that he could hardly breathe, and was on the point of leaving the cocktail bar for some place a little less congested, when the page begged him to “come this way,” and he found himself facing a group of people gathered round one of the small tables, looking into Anthea’s blue eyes. He saw a small, slim girl with a betraying flush in her cheeks, and eyes that sparkled mischievously. She had the kind of silvery-blonde hair which he knew was practically never natural and which he abhorred; her evening dress was not at all what he considered modest in a girl of her age, she was smoking in a manner that told him it was a habit with her, and there was an unpleasantly-colored cocktail in a glass on the table before her. Not an auspicious meeting between doctor and patient, indeed. She smiled very charmingly and begged him to sit down, one of the young men at once giving up his seat beside her to the doctor.
    “You will join us in a cocktail?” asked Anthea.
    “No, thank you. I cannot stay. I am on my way home from a conference, and called in to make your acquaintance.”
    “How very nice of you, Dr. Frederic. But can’t you stay and have dinner?”
    “No, I regret it is not possible. I trust you left your good father well?”
    Anthea made a little polite conversation. The young men drifted tactfully away. Diana was introduced, and then the conversation hung fire. After a few minutes, the doctor rose to go, deciding that now