“Zounds, my dear Senator,” answered Dr. Grabow, leaning back comfortably, his chin in his neck-cloth, his hat-brim propped in both hands against his stomach. Dr. Langhals put his top-hat down on the carpet beside him and regarded his hands, which were exceptionally small and covered with hair. He was a heavy dark man with a pointed beard, a pompadour hair-cut, beautiful eyes, and a vain expression. “There is positively no reason for serious disquiet at present,” Dr. Grabow went on. “When we take into consideration our honoured patient’s powers of resistance--my word, I think, as an old and tried councillor, I ought to know what that resistance is--it is simply astonishing, for her years, I must say.” “Yes, precisely: for her years,” said the Senator, uneasily, twisting his moustaches. “I don’t say,” went on Dr. Grabow, in his gentle voice, “that your dear Mother will be walking out to-morrow. You can tell that by looking at her, of course. There is no denying that the inflammation has taken a disappointing turn in the last twenty-four hours. The chill yesterday afternoon did not please me at all, and to-day there is actually pain in the side. And some fever--oh, nothing to speak of, but still-- In short, my dear Senator, we shall probably have to reckon with the troublesome fact that the lung is slightly affected.” “Inflammation of the lungs then?” asked the Senator, and looked from one physician to the other. “Yes--pneumonia,” said Dr. Langhals, with a solemn and correct bow. “A slight inflammation, however, and confined to the right side,” answered the family physician. “We will do our best to localize it.” “Then there is ground for serious concern, after all?” The Senator sat quite still and looked the speaker full in the face. “Concern--oh, we must be concerned to limit the affection. We must ease the cough, and go at the fever energetically. The quinine will see to that. And by the by, my dear Senator, let me warn you against feeling alarm over single symptoms, you know. If the difficulty in breathing increases, or there should be a little delirium in the night, or a good deal of discharge to-morrow--a sort of rusty-looking mucous, with a little blood in it--well, all that is to be expected, entirely regular and normal. Do reassure dear Madame Permaneder on this point too--she is nursing the patient with such devotion.--How is she feeling? I quite forgot to ask how she has been, in the last few days.” “She is about as usual,” the Senator said. “I have not heard of anything new. She is not taking much thought for her own condition, these days--” “Of course, of course. And, apropos: your sister needs rest, especially at night, and Mamsell Severin has not time to give her all the rest she needs. What about a nurse, my dear Senator? Why not have one of our good Grey Sisters, in whom you feel such an interest? The Mother Superior would be glad to send you one.” “You consider it necessary?”