The girl approached the bed, and after a few moments' silence she put her hand upon her husband's head and said:
"Won't it be better to wait for the doctor to do it?"
"No, no," he returned, now fairly cross; "it is hurting very much. Fetch the lint and the ointment and a pair of sharp scissors."
Ventura left the room without replying, and soon returned with the necessaries in her hand. She looked grave and seemed absent, while her face betrayed her aversion to attendance at the sick-bed.
After she had put the things on the little table by the bedside, and spread some ointment upon the lint with a knife, the young wife said softly:
"Come along."
Gonzalo raised himself in bed, and, opening his shirt, he exposed his herculean chest, on the right side of which there was the blister. The wife leaned forward to raise the linen covering, and Gonzalo profited by the occasion to kiss her forehead.
Nothing was said. The blister was large, and surrounded by a circle of inflamed flesh. Ventura straightened herself and said, with her usual want of feeling:
"Bah, bah, we had better wait for the doctor; he won't be late. If you like we will send him a message."
"I have said no," returned the young man, frowning angrily. "Take the scissors and snip the blister all round, then put the linen on the wound, and it is done. You see, it is very easy."