CHAPTER VIII.
MAKE OR BREAK.
Maggie plied the kind-hearted physician with questions in regard to her father's condition—with questions which no man with merely human knowledge could answer. He thought André would be able to talk to her by the next day; but he feared the patient would not be well enough to resume his place in the shop for weeks, and perhaps months.
André appeared to be quite comfortable, and did not seem to be suffering very severely. The doctor had given him some medicine before he was removed from the banker's house, and the sick man went to sleep soon after he was put to bed in his own room. Dr. Fisher then went out into the rear room, and told Maggie that her father would probably sleep for several hours.
"I will come again in the morning, Maggie," said he. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Nothing more, I thank you, sir," replied she. "I am very grateful to you for what you have done."
"I know nothing about your father's circumstances; but if you need any assistance, I hope you will make it known."
"Thank you, sir; I don't think we need anything," replied Maggie, a slight blush mantling her pretty face; for the idea of asking or accepting charity was painful to her.
"I fear it will be a long time before your father will be able to work again," continued Dr. Fisher, glancing around the room to ascertain, if possible, whether the singular family were in poverty or in plenty.
"I will take good care of him, whether it be for weeks or for months, or even for years. You don't know how sorry I am to have poor mon père sick; but you can't think what a pleasure it is to me to have an opportunity to do something for him. I wish I could tell you how good and kind he has always been to me; how tenderly he watched over me when I was sick; how lovingly he prayed for me; but I cannot, though it makes me happy to think I can now do something for him."