"Oh, ay," said the female. "Well, I have some smocks and ruffs foul. Come for them; and when you _are_ there, you can look at the boy"; and it told her where it lived, and when its husband would be out; yet it was rather fond of its husband than not. An introduction is an introduction. And two or three patients, out of all those who came and were denied medicine, made Doctor Margaret their washerwoman. "Now, Martin, you must help. I'll no more cats than can slay mice." "Mistress, the stomach is not a wanting for't, but the head-piece, worse luck." "Oh! I mean not the starching and ironing; that takes a woman and a handy one. But the bare washing; a man can surely contrive that. Why, a mule has wit enough in's head to do't with his hoofs, an ye could drive him into the tub. Come, off doublet, and try." "I am your man," said the brave old soldier, stripping for the unwonted toil. "I'll risk my arm in soapsuds, an' you will risk your glory." "My what?" "Your glory and honour as a--washerwoman." "Gramercy! if you are man enough to bring me half-washed linen t'iron, I am woman enough to fling't back i' the suds." And so the brave girl, and the brave soldier, worked with a will, and kept the wolf from the door. More they could not do. Margaret had repaired "the to-morrow box," and, as she leaned over the glue, her tears mixed with it, and she cemented her exiled lover's box with them, at which a smile is allowable, but an intelligent smile tipped with pity, please, and not the empty guffaw of the nineteenth-century-jackass, burlesquing Bibles, and making fun of all things except fun. But when mended it stood unreplenished. They kept the weekly rent paid, and the pot boiling, but no more. And now came a concatenation. Recommended from one to another, Margaret washed for the mayor. And bringing home the clean linen one day she heard in the kitchen that his worship's only daughter was stricken with disease, and not like to live. Poor Margaret could not help cross-questioning, and a female servant gave her such of the symptoms as she had observed. But they were too general. However, one gossip would add one fact, and another another. And Margaret pondered them all. At last one day she met the mayor himself. He recognized her directly. "Why, you are the unlicensed doctor." "I was," said she, "but now I'm your worship's washerwoman." The dignitary coloured, and said that was rather a come down. "Nay, I bear no malice; for your worship might have been harder. Rather would I do you a good turn. Sir, you have a sick daughter. Let me see her." The mayor shook his head. "That cannot be. The law I do enforce on others I may not break myself." Margaret opened her eyes.