“Oh! very well; I dare say it is all right. I am sorry I have not the money for you to-day, doctor. Very tight just at present; you know how it is with men of business.”
“It would be a great accommodation if I could have it at once.”
“Impossible, doctor! I wish I could oblige you. In a week, or fortnight, at the farthest, I will call at your office.”
A week or fortnight! The disappointed doctor once more seats himself in his chaise, and urges his horse to speed. He is growing desperate now, and is eager to reach his next place of destination. Suddenly he checks the horse. A gentleman is passing whom he recognises as the young husband whose idolized wife has so lately been snatched from the borders of the grave.
“Glad to see you, Mr. Wilton; I was about calling at your house.”
“Pray, do so, doctor; Mrs. Wilton will be pleased to see you.”
“Thank you; but my call was on business, to-day. I believe I must trouble you with my bill for attendance during your wife's illness.”
“Ah! yes; I recollect. Have you it with you? Fifty dollars! Impossible! Why, she was not ill above three weeks.”
“Very true; but think of the urgency of the case. Three or four calls during twenty-four hours were necessary, and two whole nights I passed at her bedside.”
“And yet the charge appears to me enormous. Call it forty, and I will hand you the amount at once.”