"Patron! will he die?" asked Waif with a tremble of the lip she tried hard to conceal. "Most assuredly!" was the answer. "So will you, and so shall I. But not of such a scratch as _this_, while under _my_ care! No! No! We will set him on his legs, Waif, in less than a fortnight. Then he will pay his doctor's bill, walk off with a huge appetite, and we shall see him no more." Her face, over which every shade of hope and fear had passed while she listened, looked very grave and earnest now. "Am I to nurse him, Patron?" said she; "we can keep him safe and quiet in here, and I can see after his wants while you attend to the people that come to consult you, patients and----" "Fools--" added the old man. "Fools, who are yet so wise in their folly as to purchase ease of mind at a price they would grudge for health of body. It's a worse trade, Waif, to set a broken leg than to heal a broken heart. We want skill, learning, splints, bandages, and anatomy for the one, but a little cunning and a bold guess will answer all purposes for the other. There are many men and more women who would laugh in my face if I told them their head was a workshop and their heart a pump; yet they can believe the whole of their future life is contained in a pack of cards. You and I, Waif, have thriven well in a world of fools--and the fools thrive too--why, I know not. The wisest people on earth are _your_ people, but they have never prospered. Is it best to be true, simple, honest? I cannot answer--I have never tried." "I will do everything you tell me," persisted Waif, taking for granted the permission she was so eager to obtain. "I can creep about the chamber like a mouse; I never want to sleep, nor eat, nor drink, nor go out into the filthy muddy streets. I know every phial in the surgery as well as yourself. Hand him over to me, Patron, and I will promise to bring him through." He eyed her narrowly, and she seemed conscious of his scrutiny, for she turned her head away and busied herself in adjustment of the bed-clothes. Then he laughed a little mocking laugh, and proceeded to give directions for the treatment of their patient. "You must watch him," he insisted, and though she muttered, "you needn't tell me that!" finished his say without noticing the interruption. "You must watch him narrowly; if he wakes, give him one more spoonful of the cordial; if he is restless after that, come to me. If he wanders in his sleep mark every word he utters, and remember it. Such drivellings are not of the slightest importance, but interesting, very interesting, in a medical point of view. Good-night, Waif. Do exactly as I bid you, and if all goes well, do not wake me till sunrise." Then he trimmed the lamp, listened at the lattice, and retired, leaving the girl alone with her patient.