“Nay,” said the kind-hearted old creature, “I knows I shan’t repent it. It’s a poor place, is this, for such as he, but it’s the best I have, and it’s what the drink has brought me to, and scores and thousands better nor me, and will do again.”
In a short time the doctor arrived. A very rapid inspection of his patient was sufficient to show him the nature and extent of his complaint.
“Is he in any danger?” asked the poor mother, with deep anxiety.
The doctor shook his head gravely.
“In great danger, I fear.”
“Can we remove him without risk?”
“Not without risk, I’m afraid,” was the reply; “and yet it may be worse for him to be left here. It is simply a choice of risks. We had better wrap him up well in blankets, and convey him to proper lodgings at once.”
“Is there any hope?” asked poor Lady Oldfield, with streaming eyes.
“I trust so,” was all the doctor dared to say. Blankets were at once procured, and the emaciated body of the patient was borne by strong and willing arms to the cab, for there is a wondrous sympathy with those suffering from illness even in the breasts of the most hardened and godless; while, at the same time, great was the excitement in the little court and its neighbourhood. Lady Oldfield poured out her thanks once more to the old woman who had taken compassion on her son, and put into the poor creature’s hand more money than it had ever grasped at one time before.
“Eh! my lady,” she exclaimed, in delighted astonishment, “you’re very good. I’m sure, never a thought came into my head, when I brought home the poor young gentleman, as any one would have come down so handsome. I’d have done it all the same if I’d never have got a penny.”