urgeon to beg him
to undertake the management of Mr Donne's recovery, saying, with his
usual self-mockery, "I could not answer it to Mr Cranworth if I had
brought his opponent round, you know, when I had had such a fine
opportunity in my power. Now, with your patients, and general Radical
interest, it will be rather a feather in your cap; for he may want a
good deal of care yet, though he is getting on famously--so rapidly,
in fact, that it's a strong temptation to me to throw him back--a
relapse, you know."

The other surgeon bowed gravely, apparently taking Mr Davis in
earnest, but certainly very glad of the job thus opportunely thrown
in his way. In spite of Mr Davis's real and deep anxiety about Ruth,
he could not help chuckling over his rival's literal interpretation
of all he had said.

"To be sure, what fools men are! I don't know why one should watch
and strive to keep them in the world. I have given this fellow
something to talk about confidentially to all his patients; I wonder
how much stronger a dose the man would have swallowed! I must
begin to take care of my practice for that lad yonder. Well-a-day!
well-a-day! What was this sick fine gentleman sent here for, that she
should run a chance of her life for him? or why was he sent into the
world at all, for that matter?"

Indeed, however much Mr Davis might labour with all his professional
skill--however much they might all watch--and pray--and weep--it was
but too evident that Ruth "home must go, and take her wages." Poor,
poor Ruth!

It might be that, utterly exhausted by watching and nursing, first
in the hospital, and then by the bedside of her former lover, the
power of her constitution was worn out; or, it might be, her gentle,
pliant sweetness, but she displayed no outrage or discord even in her
delirium. There she lay in the attic-room in which her baby had been
born, her watch over him kept, her confession to him made; and now
she was stretched on the bed in utter helplessness, softly gazing at
vacancy with her open, unconscious eyes, from which all the depth of
their meaning had fled, and all they told was of a sweet, child-like
insanity within. The watchers could not touch her with their
sympathy, or come near her in her dim world;--so, mutely, but looking
at each other from time to time with tearful eyes, they took a poor
comfort from the one evident fact that, though lost and gone astray,
she was happy and at peace. They had never heard her