"We--we are poor, sir. And we were burned out last night, and have no insurance. I do not know what we really shall do--yet."
"You are the house-mother--eh?" he demanded.
"I am the oldest. There are only Euphemia and me, beside poor papa----"
"Well, it's regarding your father I must speak. He's in a bad way. We can do him little good here, save that he will rest and have nourishing food. But if he goes back to work again----"
"I know it's bad for him!" cried Lyddy, with clasped hands. "But what can we do? He _will_ crawl out to the shop as long as they will let him come----"
"He'll not crawl out for a couple of weeks--I'll see to that," said the doctor, grimly. "He'll stay here. But beyond that time I cannot promise. Our public wards are very crowded, and of course, you have no relatives, nor friends, able to furnish a private room----"
"Nor is _that_ the best for him. He ought to be out of the city altogether--country air and food--mountain air especially----"
"What's that?" the doctor snapped at her, quickly.
She told him about the farm--where it was, and all.
"That's a good place for him," replied the physician, coolly. "It's three or four hundred feet higher above sea-level than the city. It will do him more good to live in that air than a ton of medicine. And he can go in two weeks, or so. Good-morning, Miss Bray," and the busy doctor hurried away to his multitude of duties, having disposed of Mr. Bray's case on the instant.
Lydia Bray was shocked indeed when they allowed her in the ward to see her father. A nurse had drawn a screen about the bed, and nodded to her encouragingly.
The pallor of Mr. Bray's countenance, as he lay there with his eyes closed, unaware of her presence, frightened the girl. She had never seen him utterly helpless before. He had managed to get around every day, even if sometimes he could not go to work.
But now the forces of his system seemed to have suddenly given out. He had overtaxed Nature, and she was paying him for it.
"Lyddy!" he whispered, when finally his heavy-lidded eyes opened and he saw her standing beside the cot.
The girl made a brave effort to look and speak cheerfully; and Mr. Bray's comprehension was so dulled that she carried the matter off very successfully while she remained.