"To be sure, my dear sir; how came I to forget it!--Miss Kate Mellon's. Oh, my dear sir, of course I heard of it,--I hear every thing,--at least, I heard of her being very ill--impossible to live. Slade attended, didn't he? Ah, couldn't have a better man. One of the rough diamonds of our profession, my dear sir; not polished, but--all here!" and the little doctor laid his forefinger on his forehead. "And so she's gone, poor young lady! Well, well! Now, my dear sir, it's my duty to prescribe for you the utmost quietude. The least bit of excitement may be highly prejudicial; in fact, I would not answer for the consequences."
"When shall I be able to go out?" asked Simnel impatiently.
"Go out, my dear sir! Not for several days--perhaps longer. I will send in a nurse to look after you; for you must be carefully watched, and have your medicines at stated times; and I'll look in this evening. Mind, my dear sir, perfect quiet."
After letting out the doctor, the servant returned to his master.
"Mr. Scadgers is here, sir," said he.
"Then show him in," said Simnel, from the bed. "Beg your pardon, sir; but the doctor's last words to me was that you was to see nobody but the nuss."
"Are you the doctor's servant, or mine, sir? Show him in!" and in Mr. Scadgers was shown.
"Hallo, sir!" said that worthy, regarding Mr. Simnel; "this is bad news to find you ill."
"There's worse than that, Scadgers; a good deal worse; as you'll hear. Your niece,--Kate Mellon, you know,--about whom we've had all the talk lately--"
"Ay, I know; at the Runner's--I know--well?"