Mazarine,"--his voice was now persuasive,--"here is fine air, and a good,
comfortable home--"
Suddenly he broke off, and as though in innocent inquiry said: "Now, has
she too much to do? Has she sufficient help in the house for one so
young?"
"She doesn't do more than's good for her," answered the old man, "and
there's the half-breed hired critter--you've seen her--and Li Choo, a
Chinaman, too. That ought to be enough," he added scornfully.
The Young Doctor seemed to reflect, and his face became urbane, because
he saw he must proceed warily, if he was to be of service to his new
patient.
"Yes," he said emphatically, "she appears to have help enough. I must
think over her case and see her again to-morrow."
The old man's look suddenly darkened. "Ain't she better:"' he asked.
"She's not so much better that there's no danger of her being worse," the
Young Doctor replied decisively. "I certainly must see her to-morrow."
"Why," the old man remarked, waving his splayed hand up and down in a
gesture of emphasis, "she's never been sick. She's in and out of this
house all day. She goes about with her animals like as if she hadn't a
care or an ache or pain in the world. I've heard of women that fancied
they was sick because they hadn't too much to do, and was too well off,
and was treated too well. Highsterics, they call it. Lots of women, lots
and lots of them, would be glad to have such a home as this, and would
stay healthy in it.
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