The removal had not been completed more than an hour, when the surgeon made his evening round, and followed the patient to his new quarters.
He paused at sight of the elegantly dressed woman who sat beside the bed, and said, stammeringly,—
“I am informed that No. 7 is your husband, and that you have taken charge of his case, and intend to nurse him. Have you had small-pox?”
“No, sir.”
“Madam, you run a fearful risk.”
“I fully appreciate the hazard, and am prepared to incur it. Do you regard this case as hopeless?”
“Not altogether, though the probabilities are that it will terminate fatally.”
“I have had too little experience to warrant my undertaking the management of the case, and, while I intend to remain here, I wish you to engage the services of some trustworthy nurse who understands the treatment of this disease. Can you recommend such a person?”
“Yes, madam; I can send you a man in whom I have entire confidence, and fortunately he is not at present employed. If you desire it, I will see him within the next hour, and give him all requisite instructions about the patient.”