"I stand corrected in my philosophy. But, tush, tush! We must not have you breaking down. I shall insist upon your getting a nurse for our young gentleman here."
"No, doctor, no," in almost a fierce tone, "no one shall nurse my dear boy but myself. Have I waited all these years to let another woman take my place?"
"Be calm. But I warn you that you are overtaxing yourself, and at your time of life it is not safe. You have done your duty; no woman can do more."
"I will not allow anybody else to take my place. It belongs to me; it is my right."
"There, there, don't agitate yourself. I hope our young friend will be grateful for what you have done for him."
"He will be; he always has been; you do not know his nature--the most loving, the tenderest. Can you not see it in his face?"
"It is a good face, and I have taken something more than a doctor's interest in the case. It is, indeed, a mercy that you came across him on the bridge a fortnight ago. Had he fallen into the hands of strangers it is hardly likely he would have pulled through. It was touch and go with him."
"Providence led my steps. I am humbly, humbly grateful."
"You saved him from death--I may tell you plainly now that he is in a fair way of recovery. And how is our other patient?"
"Still the same, doctor. Will you go and see him?"