“Six thousand!” said Vickers, with immense appreciation.

“The court set it aside for being excessive,” said Parthenheimer,” and aft’werds they compromised for less.  But there it was.  And the way it was done was odd, too.  Right arm and left leg.”

“Ah,” said Vickers, “living right on a railroad, the way I do, you see some queerer accidents than that.  Now, I remember—­”

But Mrs. Tarbell found this conversation growing quite too ghastly to be listened to with composure, so she turned abruptly toward the sofa.  The doctor was now bathing and examining Mrs. Stiles’s ankle, and Mrs. Stiles looked not merely the picture but the dramatic materialization of misery.

“How do you feel now, Mrs. Stiles?  How do you think she is, doctor?” These two questions were put in Mrs. Tarbell’s sweetest tones.

Mrs. Stiles lay for a moment without answering, but the doctor replied that he was afraid it was a nasty business.  “There is a dislocation, and there may be nothing more, except a sprain,” he said.  “But it will be impossible to tell until the swelling is reduced; and if there is a fracture of the fibula, why, such a complication is apt to be serious.”

Mrs. Stiles groaned feebly, and then looked up at Mrs. Tarbell with gratitude.  “I never thought to be so much trouble to you,” she murmured.

“Do not think of that for a moment,” said Mrs. Tarbell.  “If I only had my cologne-bottle,” she said, half aloud, in an apologetic voice.  This was one of the luxuries she had refused herself in her professional toilet; more than this, she did not allow herself to carry a smelling-bottle, though Mr. Juddson had told her it could be used with great effect to disconcert an opposing counsel.

“I am afraid you are suffering very much,” she went on.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mrs. Stiles sadly.  “If I hadn’t only been such a fool as to try to get on that there car while it was a-going.”

Mrs. Tarbell started.  The doctor rose and laughed.

“You don’t mean that,” said he.

“Mean what, doctor?”

“That you tried to get on while the car was going.  All these gentlemen here say the car started while you were trying to get on, which is a very different thing, you know.”  The doctor had evidently kept his ears open while attending to the sufferer.  Mrs. Tarbell, rather red in the face, kept silent, not knowing exactly what she ought to do.

“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Stiles feebly.  “I don’t s’pose I remember much.”

“Of course you don’t,” said the doctor cheerfully.  “Bless you, you’ll sue the company and have a famous verdict; I wouldn’t take ten thousand dollars for your chances if I had them.  You observe,” he went on confidentially to Mrs. Tarbell, “I am doing my best for the community of interests which, ought to exist among the learned professions.  I raise this poor woman’s spirits by suggesting to her dreams of enormous damages, and at the same time I promote litigation, to the great advantage of her lawyer.  I think that is the true scientific spirit.”