“Certainly,” he said, “and most heartily too, now I am entitled to do so. We must remember that we may have disappointment,” he added, gazing-down at her eager face. “But I can assure you we shall have good grounds to hope.” “I must not detain you longer,” she said. “How blessed you are to be able to make others as happy as you have made me.” “I have often to make them sad,” he answered, shaking his head, “at least, so far as we poor humans know what is gladness and what is sadness. And Mr. Challoner is really doing well? My assistant always gives favourable reports. And your boy? A bonnie boy! Why, who is looking after him while you are so much absorbed in your husband?” “Oh, he can be with us now since Charlie has been getting stronger!” she answered. “And I can always trust him with Pollie. I don’t know what I should do without her. She has been with us ever since we married. I have been so much more fortunate than most of my friends.” “Pollie has been more fortunate than some of your friends’ Pollies probably,” laughed the doctor. “I shouldn’t wonder but you spoil her.” “No, I don’t!” declared Mrs. Challoner, with a good housewife’s indignation. “But I knew when I had a good servant, and I kept my place open for her for six months during her mother’s last illness, and when her invalid sister was attending the Free Hospital, I had her to stay with Pollie. That is how we came to hear about you, Dr. Ivery. So I am sure we have been trebly repaid. These poor people live in a little damp cottage in Essex—I don’t wonder the family are sickly. Pollie herself has grown into a different girl since she has lived in Pelham Street.” She spoke quite volubly. The doctor understood the nervous tension thus suddenly relaxed. She scarcely knew what she was saying. Then she recollected herself, smiled—the smile mounting to her eyes—for the first time for many weeks, and modestly took her leave. The doctor himself escorted her to his door, the watchful attendant saying to himself, “There ain’t a many ladies, be they whom they may, for whom the master does that.” The physician returned to his study, thoughtful. He said to himself, “I wonder how they are to manage this? Challoner has said enough to me to show how necessary he felt a speedy return to business to be! I suppose she is going to work some sort of little human miracle. How she lighted up! I wish I could find such a miracle to be worked by some of my lady patients, if it would waken them up thus. But I suppose each of us must find his or her own miracles. They cost too much for any of us to be able to get them for each other.”