Page:Aaron's Rod, Lawrence, New York 1922.djvu/54

 "Miss Smitham's coming in. But it's no good—I shall have to sit up. I shall have to."

"I tell you you won't. You obey me. I know what's good for you as well as for her. I am thinking of you as much as of her."

"But I can't bear it—all alone." This was the beginning of tears. There was a dead silence—then a sound of Millicent weeping with her mother. As a matter of fact, the doctor was weeping too, for he was an emotional sympathetic soul, over forty.

"Never mind—never mind—you aren't alone," came the doctor's matter-of-fact voice, after a loud nose-blowing. "I am here to help you. I will do whatever I can—whatever I can."

"I can't bear it. I can't bear it," wept the woman.

Another silence, another nose-blowing, and again the doctor:

"You'll have to bear it—I tell you there's nothing else for it. You'll have to bear it—but we'll do our best for you. I will do my best for you—always—always—in sickness or out of sickness—There!" He pronounced there oddly, not quiet dhere.

"You haven't heard from your husband?" he added.

"I had a letter—"—sobs— "from the bank this morning."

"From de bank?"

"Telling me they were sending me so much per month, from him, as an allowance, and that he was quite well, but he was travelling."

"Well then, why not let him travel? You can live."

"But to leave me alone," there was burning indignation in her voice. "To go off and leave me with every responsibility, to leave me with all the burden."

"Well I wouldn't trouble about him. Aren't you better off without him?"

"I am. I am," she cried fiercely. "When I got that letter this morning, I said May evil befall you, you selfish demon. And I hope it may."

"Well-well, well-well, don't fret. Don't be angry, it won't make it any better, I tell you."