Septimus was not long in responding to the note, but he found the old man delirious. The second time, Lucy begged to go and see her old friend, and wept bitterly over his shrivelled hand; but the old man was incoherent, and knew them not. And now for the third visit Septimus made his way to the hospital, where he found the old man apparently sinking from the effects of some operation. The doctor had just left, when one of the nurses, a great, gaunt, bony woman, with a catlike smile, and a fine high colour in her cheeks, ushered the visitor to the bedside--a bed, one of many in the light, clean, airy ward. Septimus Hardon was shocked at the change which had taken place in the old man, as he lay with his hands spread out upon the white coverlet of the bed, pale and glassy-eyed, and rather disposed to wander in his speech; but his face seemed to light up when he heard his visitor's voice. "No; no better," he whispered. "Let's see, I told you, didn't I? Mrs Hardon, medicine and attendance, wasn't it? To be sure it was. Yes, medicine and shocking bad attendance here. That's it; and I can't tell you any more. I'm falling out of the forme, sir, unless some of these doctors precious soon tighten up the quoins." "No, no," said Septimus cheerily, "not so bad as that; a good heart is half the battle." "Yes, yes, yes, so it is," whispered the old man feebly; "but, I say, is she gone?" Septimus told him the nurse had left the room, and the old man continued: "You can't keep a good heart here, sir, nohow. I wouldn't have come if I'd known all I know now. You saw her, didn't you?" "The nurse?" said Septimus. "Yes, her," replied the old man, shuddering; "she's a wretch, with no more feeling in her than a post. She'll do what the porters shrink from, sir. They have to carry the--you know what I mean, sir--down to the deadhouse; and I've known her laugh at the young one, and do it herself in a way that makes your blood run cold. Just wink, sir, if you see her coming. She'll be here directly with my wine or jelly: says I'm to have some on the little board, don't it?" Septimus looked at the board above his head, and found that wine was ordered. "Yes," said the old man, "the doctors are trumps, sir, everyone of them; and no poor fellow out of the place could get the care and attention I've done here. My doctor couldn't do more if I paid him ten pound a day; and I always feel wonderful after he's gone; seems to understand my chronics, sir, as you wouldn't believe in. But those nurses, sir--don't tell 'em I said so, but they're devils, sir, devils. Medicine and attendance, sir; it's all the first and none of the last." "Hush," said his visitor, seeing as he thought that the old man was beginning to wander, "Mrs Hardon would have liked to see you, and Lucy; but she could not leave her mother to-day."