Salome was sitting near the pillow, and suddenly her head bowed itself, while her lips whispered, inaudibly,—
“Thank God!”
The invalid’s face brightened, and, stretching her thin, hot hand towards the orphan, she touched her shoulder, and said:—
“Do you hear that, my child? Ulpian is coming home. When will he be here?”
“Day after to-morrow evening, I hope, if there is no detention and he makes all the railroad connections. I trust you will prove sufficiently generous to bear testimony to my professional skill, by improving so rapidly that when he arrives there will be nothing left to do but compliment my sagacity, and thank me for relieving you so speedily. Is not your cough rather better?”
She did not reply; and, bending down, he saw that she was asleep.
“Doctor, I am afraid she is not much better.”
He sighed, shook his head, and beckoned Hester into the hall in order to question her more minutely concerning the patient.
That night and the next she was delirious, and failed to recognize any one; but about noon on the following day she opened her eyes, and, looking intently at Salome, who stood near the foot of the bed, she said, as if much perplexed,—