Papa and Franz were at once awakened, and the situation made known to them. Whereupon Papa fell into a state of helpless, hopeless dejection, and Franz flew into a fury. "It's all up with us now," moaned Papa. "Luck's turned aginst us." "It's up, sure enough, with your fine plans," sneered Franz. "_I'm_ goin' ter take myself out of yer muddle, while my way's clear." "If I wasn't dealin' with a pair of fools," snapped Mamma, "I'd come out all right. The gal ain't dead yet, is she?" And then, while Leslie laughed and chattered, alone in the inner room, the three resolved themselves into a council, wrangled and disputed, and at last compromised and settled upon a plan--Papa yielding sullenly, Franz protesting to the last and making sundry reservations, and Mamma carrying the day. Leslie must have a physician; it would never do to trust her fever to unskilled hands; she must have a physician, and a good one. So said Mamma. "It ain't so risky as you might think," she argued. "A good doctor's what we want--one whose time's valuable. Then he won't be running here when he ain't wanted. He'll come an' see the gal, an' then he'll be satisfied to take my reports and send her the medicine. Oh, I know these city doctors. They come every day if you've got a marble door-step, but they won't be any too anxious about poor folks. A doctor can't make nothin' out of the kind of talk she is at now, and by the time she gits her senses, we'll hit on somethin' new." This plan was opposed stoutly by Franz, feebly by Papa; but the old woman carried the point at last. "I know who we want," said Mamma confidently. "It's Doctor Bayless. He's a good doctor, an' he don't live any too near." At the mention of Doctor Bayless, Papa's countenance took on an expression of relief, which was noted by Franz, who turned away, saying: "Wal, git your doctor, then, an' the quicker the better. But mind this: _I_ don't appear till I'm sure it's safe. Ye kin git yer doctor, but when he's here, I'll happen ter be out." It was Mamma who summoned Doctor Bayless, and he came once, twice, and again. His patient passed, under his care, from delirium to stupor, from fever to coolness and calm, and then to returning consciousness. As he turned from her bedside, at the termination of his third visit, he said: "I think she will get on, now. Keep her quiet, avoid excitement, and if she does not improve steadily, let me know." He had verified Mamma's good opinion of him by manifesting not the slightest concern in the personality of his patient. If he were, for the moment, interested in Leslie, it was as a fever patient, not as a woman strangely superior to her surroundings. And on this occasion he dropped his interest in her case at the very door of the sick-room. At the corner of the dingy street, a voice close behind him arrested his footsteps: "Doctor Bayless." The man of medicine turned quickly to face the speaker.