He placed over her heart the instrument he had brought, then listened a long time to its beating. He dreaded to tell her the story it revealed to him, and at last made up his mind to evade the responsibility. When he had come to this conclusion, he raised his head.
"I do not feel willing," he said, "to pronounce an opinion. Let me send for a medical man who is older, who has had more experience."
She raised her dark eyes, and looked full in his face.
"You are afraid to tell me, after all I said? Will you not believe that I do not care to live? I shall send for no other physician. I look for the truth from your lips. You find my heart greatly enlarged?"
"I told you I did not like to trust my own judgment; but that _is_ my opinion."
"And if you are right I shall be likely to live--how long?"
"Possibly for years. Probably for a few months. There is no help,--I mean, no cure. If you suffer much pain, that can be eased, perhaps."
Miss Colchester was silent a few moments. Dr. Huger could see no change in her face, though he watched her closely. The color neither left her cheeks or deepened in them. He did not see so much as an eyelash quiver. At last she spoke,--
"You have been truly kind, and I thank you. I believe I am glad of your tidings. I think I shall stay here in Windham till the last. I would like one autumn among these grand old woods and hills. I have nothing to call me away. I can do all which I have to do by letter, and my most faithful friend on earth is my quadroon maid who is here with me. She will be my nurse, if I need nursing. And you will be my physician,--will you not?"
"I will when I can help you. At other times, may I not be your friend, and as such come to see you as often as I can?"
"Just as often,--the oftener the better," she answered, with that smile which thrilled him so strangely every time he met it. "I shall always be glad to see you. Your visits will be a real charity; for, except Lisette, I am quite solitary."
He understood by her manner that it was time to go, and took his leave.
That night he walked over to Judge Minturn's. Amy was just as pretty as ever,--just as graceful and gentle and faultless in dress and manner. Why was it that he could not interest himself in her as heretofore? Had the salt lost its savor? His judgment endorsed her as it always had. She was precisely the kind of woman to make a man happy. That pure blonde beauty, with its tints of pearl and pink, was just what he wanted, always had wanted. Why was it that he was haunted all the time by eyes so different from those calm blue orbs of Amy's? He thought it was because his new patient's case had interested him so much in a medical point of view. He was tired, and he made it an excuse for shortening his call.