"Oh," said Ann, "I don't grudge the year--I've had heaps of good times. The only really bad times were when the attacks of high fever came and you got unconscious; then you wouldn't let a nurse into the room. Jim and I had to sit up with you for nights on end. But you were very brave, and you never let your illness get on our nerves. You just bounded up from an attack like an india-rubber ball. The doctors simply gasped at you. You said good-bye to us so often that we began to take it quite casually, merely saying, 'Well, have some beef-tea just now, anyway'; and Father used to laugh and say, 'You'll live and loup dykes yet.'" "I'm sure I wasn't at all keen to live, Ann. When you get very far down dying seems so simple and easy; but I did want to see Robbie again. I think that kept me alive. When did you take me to London? In spring, wasn't it?" "Yes, in March. You weren't getting a bit better, and some one told Mark about the vaccine treatment, and he thought it might be worth trying. We were told that the journey would certainly kill you, but you said, 'No such thing,' so off we set, you and I, all on a wild March morning. You stood the journey splendidly; but two days after you arrived you took the worst fever turn of all. The London doctors came and told me you wouldn't live over the night, and I really thought they were going to be right that time. I telephoned to Priorsford, and it was Davie answered me, 'Is that you, Nana?' I was sorry to worry the boy, but I had to tell you were very ill, and that I thought Jim should come up by the night train. But you warstled through again, and then Mark brought Sir Armstrong Weir to see you. We had seen several London doctors, very glossy and well dressed, with beautiful cars, and we wondered if this great Sir Armstrong would be even smarter. But the great man came in a taxi, and wasn't at all well dressed--grey and bent and very gentle." "He looked old," Mrs. Douglas said; "but he couldn't have been so very, for he told me his own mother was living. He was very kind to me." "He cured you," said Ann. "Oh no," said Mrs. Douglas. "Well, it was partly his vaccine and partly your own marvellous pluck." "Oh no. It wasn't pluck or vaccine or anything, but just that I had to live more days on the earth." "'Deed ay," said Marget, nodding in agreement with her mistress. "Ye never did ony guid until ye had given up doctors a'thegither. As soon as we got quat o' them ye began to improve." "Now, now, Marget," said Ann, "you get carried away by your dislike of doctors. We've been very thankful to see them many a time." "Oh, they're a' richt for some things; but whenever it's ony thing serious ye canna lippen to them. When there's onything wrang wi' yer inside naebody can help ye but yer Maker."