CHAPTER XIII.
At seven o’clock Dr. Dosewell arrived, and was shown into the room of the homoeopathist, who, already up and dressed, had visited his patient.
“My name is Morgan,” said the homoeopathist; “I am a physician. I leave in your hands a patient whom, I fear, neither I nor you can restore. Come and look at him.”
The two doctors went into the sick-room. Mr. Digby was very feeble, but he had recovered his consciousness, and inclined his head courteously.
“I am sorry to cause so much trouble,” said he. The homoeopathist drew away Helen; the allopathist seated himself by the bedside and put his questions, felt the pulse, sounded the lungs, and looked at the tongue of the patient. Helen’s eye was fixed on the strange doctor, and her colour rose, and her eye sparkled when he got up cheerfully, and said in a pleasant voice, “You may have a little tea.”
“Tea!” growled the homeopathist,—“barbarian!”
“He is better, then, sir?” said Helen, creeping to the allopathist.
“Oh, yes, my dear,—certainly; and we shall do very well, I hope.”
The two doctors then withdrew.