“That is very kind of you. It will flatter the doctor, the more so as he has so high an opinion of you. But now, Mr. Coyne, I suppose if I am very good, and promise to soothe him, and not excite him, I may see my husband to-day?”
“Certainly, madam. You have an order from the person who—”
“I forgot to bring it with me. I relied on your humanity.”
“That is unfortunate. I am afraid I must not—” He hesitated, looked very uncomfortable, and said he would consult Mr. Appleton; then, suddenly puckering his face into obsequiousness, “Would your ladyship like to inspect some of our arrangements for the comfort of our patients?”
Lady Bassett would have declined the proposal but for the singular play of countenance; she was herself all eye and mind, so she said, gravely, “I shall be very happy, sir.”
Mr. Coyne then led the way, and showed her a large sitting-room, where some ladies were seated at different occupations and amusements: they kept more apart from each other than ladies do in general; but this was the only sign a far more experienced observer than Lady Bassett could have discovered, the nurses having sprung from authoritative into unobtrusive positions at the sound of Mr. Coyne's footstep outside.
“What!” said Lady Bassett; “are all these ladies—” She hesitated.
“Every one,” said Mr. Coyne; “and some incurably.”
“Oh, please let us retire; I have no right to gratify my curiosity. Poor things! they don't seem unhappy.”
“Unhappy!” said Mr. Coyne. “We don't allow unhappiness here; our doctor is too fond of them; he is always contriving something to please them.”