"Doc," he said with rueful look, as he perceived that his friend was nearly ready to sally forth upon his eagerly desired errand, "I hate most confoundedly to have you disappointed, but the truth is—"
"What! Godfrey, you surely said they were all well? Has—has anything—"
"No, no, you needn't turn pale, or be in the least alarmed. It's only that you're called another way. Fact is Flora Barbour's lying at death's door; Buell's given her up, and Barbour's been round here several times to-day, knowing that I'd got a letter and you were expected, and made me promise over and over again to get you there as soon as possible in case you came. You see they have the greatest confidence in your skill, and can't give up the hope that you can save her yet."
Without a word, but scarcely able to suppress a heavy sigh, Kenneth at once began preparations to obey the unexpected call.
"I declare it's a shame!" cried Dale, "I wouldn't be a doctor, to come and go at everybody's beck and call, for a mint of money."
"It's a noble profession, Godfrey, spite of some serious drawbacks," returned Clendenin, constrained to smile at his friend's vehemence, albeit his disappointment was really very great.
Protecting himself as well as might be from the deluge of rain that as yet knew no abatement, he hurried on his way.
The Barbours had, like most of their neighbors, exchanged their log cabin for a comfortable two story dwelling, and from an upper window the light of a candle gleamed out upon the darkness of the street.
Kenneth glanced up at it with the thought that there the sick girl was lying.
Mr. Barbour met him at the door.