“She's not very strong,” said the doctor; “and hearts don't improve with age, you know. Under favourable conditions she's good for some years yet. The great thing is never to thwart her. Let her have her own way in everything.”
“Own way in everything?” repeated the dumbfounded Mr. Gribble.
The doctor nodded. “Never let her worry about anything,” he continued; “and, above all, never find fault with her.”
“Not,” said Mr. Gribble, thickly—“not even for her own good?”
“Unless you want to run the risk of losing her.”
Mr. Gribble shivered.
“Let her have an easy time,” said the doctor, taking up his hat. “Pamper her a bit if you like; it won't hurt her. Above all, don't let that heart of hers get excited.”
He shook hands with the petrified Mr. Gribble and went off, grinning wickedly. He had few favourites, and Mr. Gribble was not one of them.
For two days the devoted husband did the housework and waited on the invalid. Then he wearied, and, at his wife's suggestion, a small girl was engaged as servant. She did most of the nursing as well, and, having a great love for the sensational, took a grave view of her mistress's condition.
It was a relief to Mr. Gribble when his wife came downstairs again, and he was cheered to see that she looked much better. His satisfaction was so marked that it brought on her cough again.