The farmer's daughter came out, and beamed pleasure at sight of the doctor: he got down, and told her the case, privately, and gave her precise instructions. She often interrupted the narrative with “Lawkadaisies,” and other rural interjections, and simple exclamations of pity. She promised faithful compliance with his orders. He then beckoned Henry in, and said, “This picture of health was a patient of mine once, as you are now; there's encouragement for you. I put you under her charge. Get a letter written to your mother, and I'll come back for it in half an hour. You had a headache, and were feverish, so you consulted a doctor. He advised immediate rest and change of air, and he drove you at once to this village. Write you that, and leave the rest to me. We doctors are dissembling dogs. We have still something to learn in curing diseases; but at making light of them to the dying, and other branches of amiable mendacity, we are masters.” As soon as he was gone, the comely young hostess began on her patient. “Dear heart, sir, was it really you as was blowed up with gunpowder?” “Indeed it was, and not many hours ago. It seems like a dream.” “Well, now, who'd think that, to look at you? Why, you are none the worse for, by a scratch or two, and dear heart, I've seen a young chap bring as bad home, from courting, in these parts; and wed the lass as marked him--within the year.” “Oh, it is not the scratches; but feel my hand, how it trembles. And it used to be as firm as a rock; for I never drink.” “So it do, I declare. Why, you do tremble all over; and no wonder, poor soul. Come you in this minut, and sit down a bit by the fire, while I go and make the room ready for you.” But, as soon as he was seated by the fire, the current began to flow again. “Well, I never liked Hillsborough folk much--poor, mean-visaged tykes they be--but now I do hate 'em. What, blow up a decent young man like you, and a well-favored, and hair like jet, and eyes in your head like sloes! But that's their ground of spite, I warrant me; the nasty, ugly, dirty dogs. Well, you may just snap your fingers at 'em all now. They don't come out so far as this; and, if they did, stouter men grows in this village than any in Hillsborough: and I've only to hold up my finger, for as little as I be, and they'd all be well ducked in father's horsepond, and then flogged home again with a good cart-whip well laid on. And, another thing, whatever we do, Squire, he will make it good in law: he is gentle, and we are simple; but our folk and his has stood by each other this hundred year and more. But, la, I run on so, and you was to write a letter again the doctor came back. I'll fetch you some paper this minut.” She brought him writing materials, and stood by him with this apology, “If 'twas to your sweetheart I'd be off. But 'tis to your mother.” (With a side glance), “She have been a handsome woman in her day, I'll go bail.”