"This is all very well," he said, "but a woman's sympathy--" "A woman!--ah, if I could be a man for only five minutes!" She clenched her little fists, and again turned to Nanny. "You poor dear," she said tenderly, "I won't let them take you away." She looked triumphantly at both minister and doctor, as one who had foiled them in their cruel designs. "Go!" she said, pointing grandly to the door. "Is this the Egyptian of the riots," the doctor said in a low voice to Gavin, "or is she a queen? Hoots, man, don't look so shamefaced. We are not criminals. Say something." Then to the Egyptian Gavin said firmly-- "You mean well, but you are doing this poor woman a cruelty in holding out hopes to her that cannot be realised. Sympathy is not meal and bedclothes, and these are what she needs." "And you who live in luxury," retorted the girl, "would send her to the poorhouse for them. I thought better of you!" "Tuts!" said the doctor, losing patience, "Mr. Dishart gives more than any other man in Thrums to the poor, and he is not to be preached to by a gypsy. We are waiting for you, Nanny." "Ay, I'm coming," said Nanny, leaving the Egyptian. "I'll hae to gang, lassie. Dinna greet for me." But the Egyptian said, "No, you are not going. It is these men who are going. Go, sirs, and leave us." "And you will provide for Nanny?" asked the doctor contemptuously. "Yes." "And where is the siller to come from?" "That is my affair, and Nanny's. Begone, both of you. She shall never want again. See how the very mention of your going brings back life to her face." "I won't begone," the doctor said roughly, "till I see the colour of your siller." "Oh, the money," said the Egyptian scornfully. She put her hand into her pocket confidently, as if used to well-filled purses, but could only draw out two silver pieces. "I had forgotten," she said aloud, though speaking to herself. "I thought so," said the cynical doctor. "Come, Nanny." "You presume to doubt me!" the Egyptian said, blocking his way to the door. "How could I presume to believe you?" he answered. "You are a beggar by profession, and yet talk as if--pooh, nonsense." "I would live on terrible little," Nanny whispered, "and Sanders will be out again in August month." "Seven shillings a week," rapped out the doctor. "Is that all?" the Egyptian asked. "She shall have it." "When?" "At once. No, it is not possible to-night, but to-morrow I will bring five pounds; no, I will send it; no, you must come for it." "And where, O daughter of Dives, do you reside?" the doctor asked. No doubt the Egyptian could have found a ready answer had her pity for Nanny been less sincere; as it was, she hesitated, wanting to propitiate the doctor, while holding her secret fast. "I only asked," McQueen said, eyeing her curiously, "because when I make an appointment I like to know where it is to be held. But I suppose you are suddenly to rise out of the ground as you have done to-day, and did six weeks ago."