Mrs. Lander protested, “Oh, I can’t bea’ mo’phine, docta.”

“Did you ever try it?” he asked, preparing his little instrument to imbibe the solution.

“No; but Mr. Landa did, and it ’most killed him; it made him sick.”

“Well, you’re about as sick as you can be, now, Mrs. Lander, and if you don’t die of this pin-prick”—­he pushed the needle-point under the skin of her massive fore-arm—­“I guess you’ll live through it.”

She shrieked, but as the pain began to abate, she gathered courage, and broke forth joyfully.  “Why, it’s beautiful, a’n’t it?  I declare it wo’ks like a cha’m.  Well, I shall always keep mo’phine around after this, and when, I feel one of these attacks comin’ on—­”

“Send for a physician, Mrs. Lander,” said Dr. Welwright, “and he’ll know what to do.”

“I an’t so sure of that,” returned Mrs. Lander fondly.  “He would if you was the one.  I declare I believe I could get up and walk right off, I feel so well.”

“That’s good.  If you’ll take a walk day after tomorrow it will help you a great deal more.”

“Well, I shall always say that you’ve saved my life, this time, doctor; and Clementina she’s stood by, nobly; I’ll say that for her.”  She twisted her big head round on the pillow to get sight of the girl.  “I’m all right, now; and don’t you mind what I said.  It’s just my misery talkin’; I don’t know what I did say; I felt so bad.  But I’m fustrate, now, and I believe I could drop off to sleep, this minute.  Why don’t you go to your tea?  You can, just as well as not!”

“Oh, I don’t want to go, now, Mrs. Lander; I’d ratha stay.”

“But there a’n’t any more danger now, is the’e, docta?” Mrs. Lander appealed.

“No.  There wasn’t any danger before.  But when you’re quite yourself, I want to have a little talk with you, Mrs. Lander, about your diet.  We must look after that.”

“Why, docta, that’s what I do do, now.  I eat all the healthy things I lay my hands on, don’t I, Clementina?  And ha’n’t you always at me about it?”

Clementina did not answer, and the doctor laughed.  Well, I should like to know what more I could do!”

“Perhaps you could do less.  We’ll see about that.  Better go to sleep, now, if you feel like it.”

“Well, I will, if you’ll make this silly child go to her tea.  I s’pose she won’t because I scolded her.  She’s an awful hand to lay anything up against you.  You know you ah’, Clementina!  But I can say this, doctor:  a betta child don’t breathe, and I just couldn’t live without her.  Come he’e, Clementina, I want to kiss you once, before I go to sleep, so’s to make su’a you don’t bea’ malice.”  She pulled Clementina down to kiss her, and babbled on affectionately and optimistically, till her talk became the voice of her dreams, and then ceased altogether.

“You could go, perfectly well, Miss Claxon,” said the doctor.

“No, I don’t ca’e to go,” answered Clementina.  I’d ratha stay.  If she should wake—­”