"This one particularly?"
"Well—I knew him in New York."
"I see! What's the matter with this sick woman?"
"I don't know. She is nervous, and feverish, and does not seem to get well as she ought to do."
"Well, if I was going to get sick, I'd choose some other place than a rock out in the middle of the ocean. Seems to me I would. One never knows what one may be left to do."
"One cannot generally choose where one will be sick," said Lois, smiling.
"Yes, you can," said the other, as sharp as a needle. "If one's in the wrong place, one can keep up till one can get to the right one. You needn't tell me. I know it, and I've done it. I've held up when I hadn't feet to stand upon, nor a head to hold. If you're a mind to, you can. Nervous, eh? That's the trouble o' folks that haven't enough to do. Mercy! I don't wonder they get nervous. But you've had a little too much, Lois, and you show it. Now, you go and lie down. I'll look after the nerves."
"How are they all at home?"
"Splendid! Charity goes round like a bee in a bottle, as usual. Ma's well; and Madge is as handsome as ever. Garden's growin' up to weeds, and I don't see as there's anybody to help it; but that corner peach tree's ripe, and as good as if you had fifteen gardeners."
"It's time I was home!" said Lois, sighing.