"Oh, no, doctor," said the lady, with a decisive shake of the head. "I don't think Miss Leo Salis and I would get on together long." "The other, then," said the doctor. "No, no. Prescribe some medicine for me." "But you don't want medicine." "Indeed, doctor, but I do. I'll take anything you like to prescribe." "But--" "Now, doctor, I am low and nervous, and you must humour me a little. I could not bear to be sent away. I should feel as if I had gone over there to die." "When I guarantee that you would come back strong and well?" "No, doctor, no. You must not send me away. Deal gently with me, and let me stop in my own nest. Ah, if you only knew my sufferings." Dr Horace North felt as if he fully knew, and was content to stand off at a distance, for though everything was extremely ladylike and refined, and there was a touch of delicacy mingled with her words, he could not help interpreting the meaning of the widow's sighs and the satisfied look of pleasure which came over her countenance when he was at hand to feel her pulse. "I do know your sufferings," he said gravely, "and you may rely upon me to bring any little skill I can command to bear upon your complaint. Think again over the idea of change." "Oh, no, doctor," said the lady quickly. "I could not go." "Ah, well, I will not press you," he said, rising. "I'll try and prescribe something that will give you tone." "You are not going, doctor," said the lady, in alarm. "Why, you have only this moment come." "Patients to see, my dear madam." "No, it is not that. I worry you with my complaints. I am very, very tiresome, I own." "Nonsense, nonsense," said the doctor; "but really I must hurry away." "Without seeing my drawings, and the books I have had down from town! Ah! I am sure I bore you with my murmuring. A sick woman is a burden to her friends." "If some one would only fetch me away in a hurry, I'd bless him," thought the doctor. "There are times, doctor, when a few words of sympathy would make me bear my lot more easily, and--" "Wheels, by George!" exclaimed the doctor. "If you only knew--" "There's something bolted." "The dead vacancy in my poor heart." "A regular smash if they don't look out. Woa, Tom! Steady, my lad!" cried the doctor, opening the French window and stepping out on to the lawn. "Doctor, for pity's sake," sobbed Mrs Berens, in anguished tones. The patient's voice was so pitiful that the doctor could not resist the appeal, and though called as it were on both sides, he stepped rapidly back into the little drawing-room in time to catch the fainting widow in his arms.