When, after much of scrutiny and more of enquiry, they stood at length before the doctor's imposing place, both instinctively stopped and gazed a little, the outlines of the stately house floating but very dimly before the woman's wistful eyes.
"Will we ask him how much it costs before we go in?" Harvey's mother asked him anxiously.
The boy pondered a moment. "I don't think so," he said at length; "he mightn't like it."
"But perhaps we haven't got enough."
"Well, we can send the rest after we get home—I've got the raspberry money left."
The woman sighed and smiled together, permitting herself to be led on up the steps.
Harvey's hand was on the bell: "You don't suppose he'll do anything to you, will he, mother? He won't hurt you, will he?"
"No, no, child, of course not; he'll make me well," his mother said reassuringly. In a moment the bell was answered and the excited pair were ushered in.
Nothing could have been more kindly than their reception at the hands of the eminent doctor; nor could the most distinguished patient have been more carefully and sympathetically examined. Almost breathless, Harvey sat waiting for the verdict.
But the doctor was very vague in his conclusions. "You must use this lotion. And—and we'll hope for the best," he said; "and whenever you're in the city you must come and see me—don't make a special trip for that purpose, of course," he added cautiously.