"My fee," said the doctor, dryly, "is half-a-crown a visit, medicine included, and the poor young lady is in no position to pay even so small a bill."
"I am responsible for everything."
"From you, as matters stand, I should decline to accept a penny. You are acquainted with the story of the young girl's life?"
"I am."
"I have no right to force your confidence. If you choose to confide in me, I may be able to do as I have said."
"I will tell you everything unreservedly," said Gerald, "on the understanding that it does not pass your lips to another person."
"Let it be so," said the doctor, after a little pause, "for the young lady's sake."
"It is for her sake," said Gerald, "that I exact the pledge of secrecy."
Then he began the story, and related it faithfully, down to the smallest detail. It occupied him some time, but the doctor did not once interrupt him, but kept his eyes fixed upon Gerald's face, his own growing brighter and brighter as the young man proceeded. The story finished, there was silence for a minute or two, during which the doctor sat with his head resting in his hand.
"Is there hope, doctor?" cried Gerald, the first to speak. "Tell me, is there hope?"