"I don't know," answered Ralph, honestly. "I'll have to come every day for a long time—perhaps twice a day," he added, remembering the curve of Araminta's cheek and her long, dark lashes.
Miss Hitty made an indescribable sound. Pain, fear, disbelief, and contempt were all mingled in it.
"Don't worry," said Ralph, kindly. "You know doctoring sometimes comes by wholesale."
Miss Hitty's relief was instantaneous and evident. "There's regular prices, I suppose," she said. "Broken toe, broken ankle, broken leg—each one so much. Is that it?"
Doctor Ralph was seized with a violent fit of coughing.
"How much is ankles?" demanded his inquisitor.
"I'll leave that all to you, Miss Hitty," said Ralph, when he recovered his composure. "You can pay me whatever you think is right."
"I shouldn't pay you anything I didn't think was right," she returned, sharply, "unless I was made to by law. As long as you've got to come every day for a spell, and mebbe twice, I'll give you five dollars the day Minty walks again. If that won't do, I'll get the doctor over to the Ridge."
Doctor Ralph coughed so hard that he was obliged to cover his face with his handkerchief. "I should think," said Miss Mehitable, "that if you were as good a doctor as you pretend to be, you'd cure your own coughin' spells. First thing you know, you'll be running into quick consumption. Will five dollars do?"
Ralph bowed, but his face was very red and he appeared to be struggling with some secret emotion. "I couldn't think of taking as much as five dollars, Miss Hitty," he said, gallantly. "I should not have ventured to suggest over four and a half."