He gave one look at his Tante Ilde.
"Pneumonia," he said, "she's been ill for a couple of days," and he started to do the little there was to be done.
"But she never said anything except that she had a bit of a cold, the angel, and going to the cemetery too!" answered Fanny aghast.
"To the cemetery in such a state!" he echoed in astonishment, "why she won't get through the night. Fanny—I'm glad she's here."
As the brother and sister looked at each other their eyes filled with tears. The way life was....
"I'm afraid she's already begun her agony," he whispered a few minutes later, "dear, good, sweet Tante Ilde."
But he wrote a prescription for Maria to take out.
"It may last longer than we think. It's sometimes so hard for them to go, even when they've nothing to stay for, but we can try to make it easy for her."
Fanny ran out of the room after Maria.
"Go to the Kapuziners and bring some one back and quick," she whispered imperatively.