“Poor little sister! when thou art stronger, we will do nothing but talk for a whole day.”
While the child lay sleeping, there came a rap at the outer door. Julien hoped he was going to have a patient. But no, a tall, stout gentleman strode into the office. His face was ruddy, his eyes twinkled merrily. He didn’t look as if he were in any need of medicine.
“I came to ask after the little Julie,” he said. “She came over in my ship,” he explained. “Possibly she has made mention of—”
“Ah! is it ‘oncle le capitaine’?”
“The same,” answered the gentleman, smiling.
“Then let me thank you for your kindness to my little sister!” cried the young man, grasping his hand. “I know not how to express my gratitude.”
“Bah! where is she?”
“In the next room. She sleeps. She is just recovering from a fever—of the brain.”
“Indeed! Strange that woman should not have spoken of it! Has she been very sick?”
“It has been a struggle for life.”