"Come, come!" she heard the doctor say, as he thrust an uncorked bottle of smelling-salts under her nose.
"How long will it last?" she panted.
"We must keep up our treatment for six months or a year," he answered. "Meantime, diet and quiet. No liquor. If you were a millionaire, I'd prescribe a long sea-voyage or a trip to Hot Springs."
Out of the chaos of her brain a sudden idea was shaping.
"What," she inquired, "about other people catching this?"
He knew her business perfectly, and he knew that what he had to say on this point would weigh but little in the scale against want. Nevertheless, he made the common answer.
After that she listened to all the instructions that he gave her. More than ever now she had her purpose in life.
XXVI
"THE LEAST OF THESE"
A week later, in a lamp-lighted street, Mary and Carrie met. Each girl was too conscious of her own business to remark that it was the business of her acquaintance, and each tried to avoid the other; but before recognition was complete they were face to face. Silence was confession. Mary spoke.