so often for trifles, that she hardly knew how to get through it.

The doctor, Mr. Blunt, came, and he too felt the heat, having spent
hours in going his rounds in the closeness and dust. He was a rough
man, and his temper did not always hold out; he told Alfred sharply
that he would have no whining, and when the boy moaned and winced
more than he would have done on a good day, he punished him by not
trying to be tender-handed. When Mrs. King said, perhaps a little
lengthily, how much the boy had suffered that morning, the doctor,
wearied out, no doubt, with people's complaints, cut her short rather
rudely, 'Ay, ay, my good woman, I know all that.'

'And can nothing be done, Sir, when he feels so sinking and weak?'

'Sinking--he must feel sinking--nothing to do but to bear it,' said
Mr. Blunt gruffly, as he prepared to go. 'Don't keep me now;' and as
Alfred held up his hand, and made some complaint of the tightness of
the bandage, he answered impatiently, 'I've no time for that, my lad;
keep still, and be glad you've nothing worse to complain of.'

'Then you don't think he is getting any better, Sir?' said Mrs. King,
keeping close to him. 'I thought he was yesterday, and I wanted to
speak to you. My oldest daughter thought if we could get him away to
the sea, and--'

'That's all nonsense,' said the hurried doctor; 'don't you spend your
money in that way; I tell you nothing ever will do him any good.'

This was at the bottom of the stairs; and Mr. Blunt was off. He was
the cleverest doctor for a good way round, and it was not easy to