He turned at my speaking; for the ungrateful man had, I do believe, forgotten that I was there.
He took up the book, looked at its title, smiled a little--scornfully, was it?--at me, and said of her who wrote the book,--
"She is sensible; she bears the result of her own theories before imposing their practice upon others; but," and he went back to the thorn-apple voice, "do you expect to take care of my sister by the aid of this to-night?"
"It may give me assistance."
"It will not. What does Miss Nightingale know of Lettie?"
Well, what does she? I don't know, and so I had to answer,--
"Nothing."
"That doctor is here," said Kate, at the door.
"Are you coming up, too?" he asked, as he turned suddenly upon me, half-way out of the room.
"Certainly!"--and I went out with him.