At length Dr. White came, and went quickly into the bedroom. Dr. White was a tall, spare man, between forty and fifty years of age. He was one of those doctors who loved his profession with a love almost amounting to passion, and he had worked himself almost to a skeleton. People said that he ought to be a very rich man, but he was not. A great part of the service he rendered was a labour of love. Scores of people in Brunford wondered why he never sent a bill to them, and when he was asked the reasons for his remissness, he always put the inquirers off with a laugh. "Oh, you'll be getting it some day." The truth was he hated sending bills to poor people, and his great delight was not in receiving cheques or payment for his services, but in seeing his patients restored to health and strength again. He was almost worshipped in the town, and, indeed, no one worked so hard for the good of the people as he did in his own way. When he entered the room he looked at Mary rather wonderingly, but asked no questions. He went straight to the patient's bedside, and examined her carefully. When he had completed his examination he turned to the young girl, who was watching him with wide, staring eyes. "When did this happen?" he said. Mary began to explain Mrs. Stepaside's relationship to the accused man in Manchester and of the sufferings through which she had gone. "I know all about that," said the doctor. "But tell me the immediate cause of this." As may be imagined, this was a difficult task, but Mary's ready wit helped her through with it. "I brought her from Manchester this morning," she said. "She did not seem very well then, and she asked me to come with her. Then, then----" And her eyes rested upon the newspaper which she had been reading. "Oh, I see," said the doctor. "It was a sudden shock. Yes; it's quite understandable--long weeks of suspense and agony, and then this on the top of it!" He did not ask any further questions, for Dr. White was a wise man. He knew the whole circumstances of Paul's arrest, and was therefore able to estimate the truth. "Mrs. Stepaside has had a great shock. Of course, I need not repeat that, and she may lie like this for some days. One cannot tell the developments which will take place." "Do you think she will die?" asked Mary anxiously. "She's had enough to kill her, anyhow!" replied the doctor, "but she may pull through. We'll do our best. Whatever happens, nothing must be said or done to agitate her--you understand that? I fancy she will have fleeting periods of consciousness, but she must be always met with a smile. I am sure you understand this?" "But how long will it be before--before she is allowed to talk?"