Bolts grated, the key creaked, and heavily and warily old Peter opened
the door and reconnoitered.
"It is I, Peter, you old fool! Get out of the way, and don't keep us
waiting!"
With which rough greeting the young man strode in, followed by the nurse.
"He fetches a woman every time," murmured old Peter, plaintively, "and
we've got a great plenty now, Lord knows!"
"This way, ma'am," called Dr. Oleander, striding straight, to the
kitchen; "we'll find a fire here, at least. It's worse than Greenland,
this frigid-zone!"
Mrs. Oleander sat before the blazing fire, plucking a fowl; Sally stood
at the table, kneading dough. Both paused, with feminine exclamations,
at sight of the doctor, and turned directly, with feminine curiosity, to
stare at the woman.
"How do, mother? How are you, Sally? Back again, you see, like the
proverbial bad shilling! This is Mrs. Susan Sharpe, the nurse I promised
to bring. How's our patient?"
He turned anxiously to his mother. She took her eyes from Mrs. Sharpe to
answer.
"I don't know; she frightens me, Guy.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269