“That is the beauty of it,” put in the Doctor. “One day is surely enough. An old lady who had fallen and hurt herself badly said to me once: ‘Doctor, how long must I lie here?’ ‘Have patience, my dear madam,’ said I. ‘You have only one day at a time to live. Get all the content you can out of it, and let the rest wait, like a bud, till the sun of to-morrow shows you the rose.’”
“Did she get well?” asked Lynn.
“Of course—why not?”
“His sick ones always get well,” said Fräulein Fredrika, timidly. “Mine brudder’s friend possesses great skill.”
She was laying the table for the simple Sunday night tea, and Lynn said that he must go.
“No, no,” objected the Master, “you must stay.”
“It would be of a niceness,” the Fräulein assured him, very politely.
“We should enjoy it,” said the Doctor.
“You are all very kind,” returned Lynn, “but they will look for me at home, and I must not disappoint them.”
“Then,” continued the Doctor, “may I not hope that you will play for me before you go?”