Chapter 12 - Page 2

tea, and a
mite of toast. Don't that tempt you?"

Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been
tormented by that same question--who was to pay the doctor?--and a
few days before she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty
dollars of Miss Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the
bitterest struggles of her life. She had never borrowed a penny of
any one before, and the possibility of having to do so had always
been classed in her mind among those shameful extremities to which
Providence does not let decent people come. But nowadays she no
longer believed in the personal supervision of Providence; and had
she been compelled to steal the money instead of borrowing it, she
would have felt that her conscience was the only tribunal before
which she had to answer. Nevertheless, the actual humiliation of
having to ask for the money was no less bitter; and she could
hardly hope that Miss Mellins would view the case with the same
detachment as herself. Miss Mellins was very kind; but she not
unnaturally felt that her kindness should be rewarded by according
her the right to ask questions; and bit by bit Ann Eliza saw
Evelina's miserable secret slipping into the dress-maker's
possession.

When the doctor came she left him alone with Evelina, busying
herself in the shop that she might have an opportunity of seeing
him alone on his way out. To steady herself she began to sort a
trayful of buttons, and when the doctor appeared she was reciting
under her breath: "Twenty-four horn, two and a half cards fancy
pearl . . ." She saw at once that his look was grave.

He sat down on the chair beside the counter, and her mind
travelled miles before he spoke.

"Miss Bunner, the best thing you can do is to let me get a bed
for your sister at St. Luke's."

"The hospital?"

"Come now, you're above that sort of prejudice, aren't you?"
The doctor spoke in the tone of one who coaxes a spoiled child. "I
know how devoted you are--but Mrs. Ramy can be much better cared
for there than here. You really haven't time to look after her and
attend to your business as well. There'll be no expense, you
understand--"

Ann Eliza made no answer. "You think my sister's going to be
sick a good while, then?" she asked.

"Well, yes--possibly."

"You think she's very sick?"

"Well, yes. She's very sick."

His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had
never known what it was to hurry.

Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons.
Suddenly she lifted her eyes and looked at him. "Is she going to
die?"

The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. "We never say that,
Miss Bunner. Human skill works