"I don't know," he replied, wringing his hands, "I don't know. I ought never to have done it. I ought to have lived alone, with nobody to keep but myself." "It would have been better for my poor sister. But she is your wife, and I shall not allow her to suffer as she is suffering without seeking medical assistance. I have never been in this neighbourhood, and know nothing about it. Where is the nearest doctor?" "I can't tell you; I am almost as much a stranger here as you are." "There must be one not very far off. Who was the lad who opened the door for me when I came to-night?" "My servant, Tom Barley. What do you want him for? He is asleep by this time. He has work to do the first thing in the morning." "Where does he sleep?" "Outside; in the stable." "I shall find it. You must write a few words on paper for me." "I'll do nothing of the sort. You shan't force me to put my name to anything. Do you think I am not up to such tricks?" "If you don't do as I say I will bring a lawyer here as well as a doctor." This woman possessed a sweet and gentle nature, and nothing but the evidence of an overwhelming wrong could have so stirred it to sternness. Miser Farebrother was terrified at the threat of bringing a lawyer into the house; and as he had given way to his wife earlier in the day, so now was he compelled by his fears to give way to her sister. He wrote as she directed: "Mr. Farebrother, of Parksides, urgently requests the doctor to come immediately to his house to see Mrs. Farebrother, who, he fears, is seriously ill." He fought against two words--"urgently," because it might cause the doctor to make a heavier charge; and "seriously," because a construction that he had been neglectful might be placed on it. But his sister-in-law was firm, and he wrote as she dictated. "I will send the lad with it," said Miser Farebrother. "I will send him myself," said his sister-in-law. "There must not be a moment's delay." There was no need for her to seek Tom Barley in the stable; he was sitting up in the kitchen below. She gave him the letter, and desired him to run as fast as he could to the village and find a doctor, who was to come back with him. If the doctor demurred, and wanted to put it off till the following day, he was to be told that it was a matter of life and death. Tom Barley was visibly disturbed when he heard this. "Who is it, lady?" he asked. "His honour's wife, or the baby?" "His wife. You're a kind-hearted lad, and won't waste a moment, will you?" "No, lady; trust me." He was not above taking the sixpence she offered him, and he ran out of the house like a shot. Within the hour he was back with the doctor, whose looks were grave as he examined his patient. "There is hope, doctor?" said Mrs. Farebrother's sister. "Tell me there is hope!" He shook his head, and gently told her she must prepare for the worst. "She is past prescribing for," he said. "I can do nothing for her. She has been for some time in a decline."