"I can't take care of him—you must see that I can't," said Mrs. Preston, fretfully. "I can't expose my life without doing him any good."
"I expose myself every time I visit him," said the doctor. "I never had the smallpox. Have you been vaccinated?"
"Yes, I believe so—I'm sure I don't know. But people sometimes take the smallpox even after they have been vaccinated. I should be so frightened that I could do no good."
"Then," said the doctor, gravely, "you have decided to leave your husband?"
"Yes, doctor, I must. It is my duty—to my boy," answered Mrs. Preston, catching at this excuse with eagerness. "I must live for him, you know. Of course, if I could do any good, it would be different. But what would Godfrey do if both his father and mother should die?"
She looked up into his face, hoping that he would express approval of her intentions; but the doctor was too honest for this. In truth, he was disgusted with the woman's selfishness, and would like to have said so; but this politeness forbade. At any rate, he was not going to be trapped into any approval of her selfish and cowardly determination.
"What do you wish to be done, Mrs. Preston?" he asked. "Of course, your husband must be taken care of."
"Hire a nurse, doctor. A nurse will do much more good than I could. She will know just what to do. Most of them have had the smallpox. It is really much better for my husband that it should be so. Of course, you can pay high wages—anything she asks," added Mrs. Preston, whose great fear made her, for once in her life, liberal.
"I suppose that will be the best thing to do. You wish me, then, to engage a nurse?"
"Yes, doctor, if you will be so kind."