“He’s really better, isn’t he?” she asked eagerly, and her voice throbbed with young life.
“Better, yes. But—sometimes a man seems definitely to be on the mend and then he relapses without any apparent cause. It’s too soon to say he’s getting better. All I can say is that, if no unfavorable complications set in, he ought to improve.”
“Ought you to leave him?”
He threw up his hands in an energy of exasperation. “If you had half as much to do as I have, young lady—”
“I know, but if he’s really still in danger—”
“Danger!” fumed the doctor. “Do you think Mrs. Pillsbury can wait for him to get out of danger?”
“I didn’t know—”
“Babies are born when they’re born,” he sputtered. “I’ve got to leave for town right after breakfast.”
Justin came round the corner of the house. Betty almost ran to give him her hand. Her eyes were shining wells of friendliness.
“I want to see you after breakfast,” she whispered.