"I think, Doctor, she wished to see you specially."
"Yes, I do," called out Marion, awaking from a refreshing nap, with Annie's letter still in her hand. "Doctor, I'm almost well."
"Decidedly. Are you dismissing me?"
"No, indeed; but I want to ask you something."
She waited a moment, as though uncertain how to state her business. "Doctor, I have something on my mind that troubles me. I feel sure I should be well at once if it were decided."
"Is it a case of blasted affections, or—"
"Don't joke, Doctor: it's a serious affair. It's a breach of trust on my part, and I can't rest until I have done all in my power to remedy the injury."
"Why do you tell me this?" he asked, evidently startled. "Go to your lawyer, or—perhaps your clergymen would do better."
"Because you were my father's friend, and you are my friend. I only tell you now to get your consent to my doing what my conscience tells me is my duty."
"I can't give advice on such general information. I must know particulars."