"I went to see Mr. Robertson—he's ill."
"You went yesterday too, didn't you?... You're very attentive to him."
She looked up at him, opposing to harsh irritation her reproving silence.
"I tell you, I don't care to have you going to see him that way, alone. Do you want to be talked about?"
"Don't disturb me when I'm nursing the baby.... There—isn't that Father?"
The clatter of wheels and a hasty run up the steps in fact announced the doctor's arrival. Laurence went downstairs, with an angry parting glance. The baby cried a little, and Mary gathered it to her breast, composing herself, shutting her eyes, trying to banish all disturbing thoughts, even the thought of the Judge. She believed that any disturbance in her when she was nursing reacted at once on the baby. Indeed now the baby cried shrilly and at first refused the breast; but after a few moments, quiet succeeded, and Mary sighed, relaxing. It was a deep physical pleasure to her, to nurse her child—more so with this one than with the first. The baby's strong pull at the breast, for he was a robust infant—his hand opening and shutting on her flesh, the warmth of his little body, the relation of complete confidence and satisfaction—it moved and soothed her. She sank into a dreamy contentment, isolated from all that hurry and trouble downstairs.
But when the baby, replete, had gone to sleep, she laid him on the bed, and at once went down. She was very much concerned about the Judge, though her quiet face and motions did not betray her anxiety. She did what could be done, and awaited her father's verdict silently.
"Apoplexy—he'll recover, undoubtedly, but his left side is affected, there may be a slight paralysis," Dr. Lowell told them. "His habits have been bad—no exercise, too much whiskey and tobacco. And then his age—he must be over seventy. Probably he'll be a good deal of an invalid from now on."
"He won't like that," Laurence said sorrowfully.
"No, he's never taken care of himself, he'll hate it, naturally—but so it is.... It will mean a good deal for you and Mary—the care of him here, and then he won't be able to do any work for some time—perhaps never again, to any extent."