"But a doctor is pretty safe; he can guard against infection in a great measure."
"Well, a great many other people stay in New York and do not get sick. The religious and priests stay in their houses, and they go among more wretched people than I do."
"Yes; but Miss Lester, you are not a religious; your life has not been wholly consecrated to God, as theirs have."
"I can't see why, because I have not a vocation for a religious life, that should make any difference."
"Plainly, then, because your life is precious, if not to yourself, to other people; to me. It should not be lightly thrown away."
"I shall not throw it away; I don't believe in contagion. God will preserve my life, if he wishes it to be spared."
"Yes; but God is not called upon to work a miracle in your behalf; and if you wilfully expose yourself to danger, he may not interpose to avert the consequences."
Margaret was silent, and the doctor continued, with an effort,
"I said your life was precious to me; and though you did not notice it, I say it again. I have never had courage till to-day to speak to you about the letter I wrote you at Shellbeach; but it is possible for me to do so now. You did not seem angry with me when I saw you at the wedding. Had you forgotten it, or didn't you care for my rudeness?"
"I cared for it; that is, of course, I was sorry, perhaps hurt; still, not for a moment angry or offended. I knew that you were not cruel but kind, for you told the truth; and any thing except the truth would have been unkindness. I honored you for writing it."