The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. “We never say that, Miss Bunner. Human skill works wonders—and at the hospital Mrs. Ramy would have every chance.”
“What is it? What's she dying of?”
The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase for the scientific terminology which rose to his lips.
“I want to know,” Ann Eliza persisted.
“Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a hard time lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting in consumption—rapid consumption. At the hospital—”
“I'll keep her here,” said Ann Eliza quietly.
After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting the buttons; then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf behind the counter and went into the back room. She found Evelina propped upright against the pillows, a flush of agitation on her cheeks. Ann Eliza pulled up the shawl which had slipped from her sister's shoulders.
“How long you've been! What's he been saying?”
“Oh, he went long ago—he on'y stopped to give me a prescription. I was sorting out that tray of buttons. Miss Mellins's girl got them all mixed up.”
She felt Evelina's eyes upon her.