“I jes’ dun know.”
“Then we will have a physician settle the question,” replied Mr. De Vere, stepping to the telephone.
“Dr. Brinton is not well,” the answer came. “Is the call imperative?”
One glance at Reuben’s face and Mr. De Vere answered, “I am sorry to learn that the doctor is sick, but fear we must have medical advice at once. Will he kindly send some one?”
After a long pause, Dr. Brinton himself answered. Hernando’s symptoms under Reuben’s dictation were given, and through the ’phone, Dr. Brinton’s laugh followed by a fit of coughing could be distinctly heard. Then he said his assistant would be up immediately after breakfast.
“Now Reuben, my good man, don’t worry any more about it. You know he has malaria—at least he occasionally suffers from febrile attacks—and now undoubtedly has taken cold. Your hot toddy will fix him, and if it does not, the doctor will do all necessary,” and he dismissed the subject.
Massa John’s will was law for Reuben, and though he could not rid his mind of a feeling of indefinable dread, after another peep into Hernando’s room he went to assist Margaret in the kitchen.
Nine o’clock brought, not Dr. Brinton’s assistant, but Dr. Herschel, a celebrated dermatologist who was stopping in town for the purpose of investigating the climatic conditions at Shushan and the medicinal properties of mineral springs there. He alighted deliberately and turned to survey the prospect. Little rivulets of melting snow danced musically down the mountain side, the fresh woody smell from dried leaves was wafted to his nostrils, unconsciously his head was thrown back to better fill the lungs with this exhilarating air, and he bared his head as if in deference to the Giver of such blessings.
Eletheer was watching from an upper window and her heart fluttered as she thought of meeting this great man face to face. “Just like good Dr. Brinton,” she said to herself. “None but the best for our family—but Hernando is worthy of it. I do wonder what is the matter with him anyway. Reuben seems so worried. Dr. Herschel takes his time. Probably as his name is made, he does not need to inconvenience himself for the sake of others.”
He raised his eyes to the window before which she sat and seeing her, bowed slightly and advanced slowly toward the house.