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 one remedy, to send her back to her native mountain air; and for the second trouble there is also but one cure, and that the same. So to-morrow the child must start for home; there you have my prescription.”

Herr Sesemann had arisen and now paced up and down the room in the greatest state of concern.

“What!” he exclaimed, “the child a sleep-walker and ill! Home-sick, and grown emaciated in my house! All this has taken place in my house and no one seen or known anything about it! And you mean, doctor, that the child who came here happy and healthy, I am to send back to her grandfather a miserable little skeleton? I can’t do it; you cannot dream of my doing such a thing! Take the child in hand, do with her what you will, and make her whole and sound, and then she shall go home; but you must do something first.”

“Sesemann,” replied the doctor, “consider what you are doing! This illness of the child’s is not one to be cured with pills and powders. The child has not a tough constitution, but if you send her back at once she may recover in the mountain air, if not—you would rather she went back ill than not at all?”

Herr Sesemann stood still; the doctor’s words were a shock to him.

“If you put it so, doctor, there is assuredly only one way—and the thing must be seen to at once.” And then he and the doctor walked up and down for a while arranging what to do, after which the doctor said good-bye, for some time had passed since they first sat down together, and as the master himself opened the hall door this time the morning light shone down through it into the house.