Why not somebody
tink of dis?--My dear mees, have you had dinner? Non? J'en etais sur,"
with a groan.
Mr. Brown--for that was the tutor's very English name--was so dramatic
in the expression of his good feeling that Miss Featherstone could not
repress a smile as she turned to the physician, and, taking out her
pencil and a little memorandum-book, said, "If you'll give me
directions, Doctor Harris, I think that I'm perfectly competent to take
care of the child."
Doctor Harris, who was gallant and a bachelor, made a whispered
remonstrance referring to her fatigue, but she replied gravely, "I am
in perfect health, and it never makes me ill to sit up with a sick
person: I have had experience." Some painful remembrance evidently
agitated her, for her voice suddenly failed.
They were interrupted by the sound of carriage-wheels rolling rapidly
up the avenue.
"Voici madame!" cried Mr. Brown, who flew to the door to hand Mrs.
Pinckney out.
He had taken the earliest opportunity to enlighten her as to the
child's illness, for they heard her exclaim, "I know it: oh, I have
heard of it! Where is the doctor?"
Mrs. Pinckney was tall and slight: she had blonde hair, large,
beautiful eyes--they were blue--and regular features.
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