thing further had been
needed to establish his fame, it would have been found in the fact that
he was very rich, wearing diamonds in his shirt-bosom, driving fine
horses, and being, in fact, surrounded with all the luxuries that money
can procure. Of course, he was a great doctor. How could it be
otherwise? And it was enough to know that a Mr. A had seen a Mr. B who
knew a Mr. C whose wife's mother was cured by him!

At first these things were talked of in hearing of the sick man; then
there began to be whispers about the fire as to the possibility of
persuading him to sell all that he had and go to the great Doctor; for
it was now pretty generally felt that the ague was only the
accompaniment of a more terrible disease.

Then at last it was suggested, as a wild pleasantry, by some daring
visitor, "Suppose, Hobert, we should send you off one of these days,
and have you back after a few weeks, sound and vigorous as a young colt!
What should you say to that, my boy?"

To the surprise of everybody, Hobert replied that he only wished it were
possible.

"Possible! Why, of course it's possible! Where there's a will, you
know!" And then it began to be talked of less as an insane dream.

One morning, as Jenny came into the sick man's room, she found him
sitting up in bed with his shirt open and his hand on his breast.

"What is it, Hobert?" she said; for there was a look in his eyes that
made her tremble.

"I don't know, Jenny; but whatever it is, it will be my death," he
answered, and, falling upon her shoulder,--for she had come close to him
and had her arm about his neck,--he sobbed like a child.

The little hand was slipped under his, but Jenny said she could feel
nothing; and I think she will be forgiven for that falsehood. He was
sick, she said, worn out, and it was no wonder that strange fancies
should take possession of him. She had neglected him too much; but now,
though everything should go to pieces, he should have her first care,
and her last care, and all her care; he should not be left alone any
more to conjure up horrors; and when he said he was weak and foolish and
ashamed of his tears, she pacified him with petting and with praises. He
was everything that was right, everything that was strong and manly. A
little more patience, and then it would be spring, and the sunshine
would make him well. She put the hair away from his forehead, and told
him how fair in the face he was grown; and then she shoved hi