Edward swung along the road, whirling his stick round, whistling, and talking to the dogs that accompanied him. He was of a hopeful disposition, and did not think it would be necessary to slaughter his best cow. He did not believe in the vet. half so much as in himself, and his firm opinion was that she would recover. He walked up the avenue of Court Leys, looking at the young elms he had planted to fill the gaps; they were pretty healthy on the whole, and he was pleased with his work. He went to Bertha’s room and knocked at the door. Dr. Ramsay opened it, but with his burly frame barred the passage. “Oh, don’t be afraid,” said Edward, “I don’t want to come in. I know when I’m best out of the way.... How is she getting on?” “Well, I’m afraid it won’t be such an easy job as I thought,” whispered the doctor; “but there’s no reason to get alarmed.” “I shall be downstairs if you want me for anything.” “She was asking for you a good deal just now, but nurse told her it would upset you if you were there; so then she said, ‘Don’t let him come; I’ll bear it alone.’” “Oh, that’s all right. In a time like this the husband is much better out of the way, I think.” Dr. Ramsay shut the door upon him. “Sensible chap that,” he said. “I like him better and better. Why, most men would be fussing about and getting hysterical, and Lord knows what.” “Was that Eddie?” asked Bertha, her voice trembling with recent agony. “Yes; he came to see how you were.” “He isn’t very much upset, is he? Don’t tell him I’m very bad--it’ll make him wretched. I’ll bear it alone.” Edward, downstairs, told himself it was no use getting into a state, which was quite true, and taking the most comfortable chair in the room, settled down to read his paper. Before dinner he went to make more inquiries. Dr. Ramsay came out saying he had given Bertha opium, and for a while she was quiet. “It’s lucky you did it just at dinner time,” said Edward, with a laugh. “We’ll be able to have a snack together.” They sat down and began to eat. They rivalled one another in their appetites; and the doctor, liking Edward more and more, said it did him good to see a man who could eat well. But before they had reached the pudding, a message came from the nurse to say that Bertha was awake, and Dr. Ramsay regretfully left the table. Edward went on eating steadfastly. At last, with the happy sigh of the man conscious of virtue and a satisfied stomach, he lit his pipe and again settling himself in the armchair, shortly began to doze. The evening, however, was long, and he felt bored. “It ought to be all over by now,” he said. “I wonder if I need stay up?” Dr. Ramsay seemed a little worried when Edward went to him a third time. “I’m afraid it’s a difficult case,” he said. “It’s most unfortunate. She’s been suffering a good deal, poor thing.” “Well, is there anything I can do?” asked Edward. “No, except to keep calm and not make a fuss.”