"You think she's very sick?"

"Well, yes. She's very sick."

His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had
never known what it was to hurry.

Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons.
Suddenly she lifted her eyes and looked at him. "Is she going to
die?"

The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. "We never say that,
Miss Bunner. Human skill works wonders--and at the hospital Mrs.
Ramy would have every chance."

"What is it? What's she dying of?"

The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase
for the scientific terminology which rose to his lips.

"I want to know," Ann Eliza persisted.

"Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a
hard time lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting
in consumption--rapid consumption. At the hospital--"

"I'll keep her here," said Ann Eliza quietly.

After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting
the buttons; then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf