“One moment, sir,” said the doctor, interrupting the whispered conversation he was holding with the curate.
The next minute he had asked the great surgeon a question, and received a short decisive answer, which was communicated to Salis.
“But, my dear sir,” he said, in remonstrance, “I have brought you down here on professional business. I am not a rich man. but still not so poor that—”
“My dear Mr Salis, I am a rich man,” said the old surgeon, smiling, “and partly from my acquaintance with Dr North, partly from the pleasure it has given me to meet your sweet sister, I feel so much interest in her case that I must beg of you not to spoil a pleasant friendly meeting by introducing money matters. No, no; don’t be proud, my dear sir. I possess certain knowledge. Don’t deprive me of the pleasure of trying to benefit Miss Salis.”
“He’s a fine old fellow as ever breathed,” said North, returning to the Rectory, after seeing the great surgeon to the station.
“A true gentleman,” said the curate sadly. “How can I ever repay him?”
“He told me—by helping your poor sister to get well.”
“Ah!” sighed the curate; “it is a terrible blow.”
“Terrible,” acquiesced North. “But she’ll bear it, sir, ten times better than her sister Leo would. By the way, I haven’t seen her.”
“No; I have just been asking about her. The scene was too painful for her, poor girl, and she went out so as to be away.”