"Then you can pity him, and I may venture to ask you the favor to— It will be a bitter grief and disappointment to him. Will you break it to him as gently as you can; will you say that his Helen— Will you tell him what I have told you?"
"I decline."
This point-blank refusal surprised Helen Rolleston; all the more that it was uttered with a certain sullenness, and even asperity, she had never seen till then in this gentle clergyman.
It made her fear she had done wrong in asking it; and she looked ashamed and distressed.
However, the explanation soon followed.
"My business," said he, "is to prolong your precious life; and making up your mind to die is not the way. You shall have no encouragement in such weakness from me. Pray let me be your physician."
"Thank you," said Helen, coldly; "I have my own physician."
"No doubt; but he shows me his incapacity by allowing you to live on pastry and sweets, things that are utter poison to you. Disease of the lungs is curable, but not by drugs and unwholesome food."
"Mr. Hazel," said the lady, "we will drop the subject, if you please. It has taken an uninteresting turn."
"To you, perhaps; but not to me."