“How much do you charge a week?” asked Mr. Wheatley.
“We will make the price satisfactory,” the Doctor promised. “You may pay only what you can afford to pay.”
“But if it is just to keep her in bed,” broke in the grandmother eagerly, “why can’t she stay at home? I will take care of her—do everything you tell me, same as a nurse.”
Dr. Dudley gazed into her pleading eyes, as if to read her through and through; but she did not flinch, she met his own steadily.
“I am inclined to think,” he said at last, “that this may be the better plan. There is one strong point in its favor,—the air here is purer than ours.” He smiled back to her. “Suppose we take her up on the mountain, where I can keep watch of her as long as I stay, and let her remain there until my daughter is ready to go home. She will have the children for company, and that will be a good thing for her.”
“No, sir!” came in thunderous tones from the man by the table. His big fist came down on his knee as he spoke.
His wife crossed over to him and began to talk in her gentle way, so softly that the others heard but a word now and then. At first the man would have none of her arguments; but presently, with a mollified “Have it your own way, then,” he got up and took a seat nearer the Doctor.
Thus it was settled, but when the details were arranged nobody was present save the two men. Grandmother and Polly had gone to share the happy news with Oscarlucy and Rosalind.
The elder girl broke into quiet weeping; but the little one smiled triumphantly.
“I knew he would make me walk!” she said.