foreign university has made him a doctor—while he has been abroad, you understand. I hadn't heard a word about it, until he told me himself upon the pier.
Berta.
Well well, he's clever enough for anything, he is. But I didn't think he'd have gone in for doctoring people too.
Miss Tesman.
No no, it's not that sort of doctor he is. [Nods significantly.] But let me tell you, we may have to call him something still grander before long.
Berta.
You don't say so! What can that be, Miss?
Miss Tesman.
[Smiling.] H'm—wouldn't you like to know! [With emotion.] Ah, dear dear—if my poor brother could only look up from his grave now, and see what his little boy has grown into! [Looks around.] But bless me, Berta—why have you done this? Taken the chintz covers off all the furniture?
Berta.
The mistress told me to. She can't abide covers on the chairs, she says.
Miss Tesman.
Are they going to make this their everyday sitting-room then?
Berta.
Yes, that's what I understood—from the mistress. Master George—the doctor—he said nothing.
