“No, indeed, Doctor,” replied the young man with a smile, “I am sure my sister-in-law will testify to the good hours I have kept since here. But I have a headache this morning—a rather bad one,” he added, with his hand to the nape of his neck.
“Perhaps this place doesn’t agree with you—it was always rather famous for its smells, if I remember aright! However, I am going to see Miss Ethel Pullen now, and when I have finished with her, I will look after you!”
“No, thank you, Doctor,” said Ralph laughing, as he descended the stairs. “None of your nostrums for me! Keep them for the baby!”
“He is not looking well,” observed Doctor Phillips to Margaret, as they walked on together.
“I don’t think he is, now you point it out to me, but I have not noticed it before,” replied Margaret. “I am sure he has been living quietly enough whilst here!”
The infant was lying as she had now done for several days past—quite tranquil and free from pain, but inert and half asleep. The doctor raised her eyelids and examined her eyeballs—felt her pulse and listened to her heart—but he did not seem to be satisfied.
“What has this child been having?” he asked abruptly.
“Having, Doctor? Why! nothing, of course, but her milk, and I have always that from the same cow!”
“No opium—no soothing syrup, nor quackeries of any kind?”
“Certainly not! You know how often you have warned me against anything of the sort!”