Mrs. Briscoe sighed and said, “Sir, I think anything is better than for her to hear it from a servant—­and they are sure to blurt it out.  Young women are such fools.”

“No, no; I see what it is,” said Dr. Philip.  “I have gone all wrong from the first.  I have been acting like a woman, when I should have acted like a man.  Why, I only trusted you by halves.  There was a fool for you.  Never trust people by halves.”

“That is true, sir.”

“Well, then, now I shall go at it like a man.  I have a vile opinion of servants; but no matter.  I’ll try them:  they are human, I suppose.  I’ll hit them between the eyes like a man.  Go to the kitchen, Mrs. Briscoe, and tell them I wish to speak to all the servants, indoors or out.”

“Yes, sir.”

She stopped at the door, and said, “I had better get back to her, as soon as I have told them.”

“Certainly.”

“And what shall I tell her, sir?  Her first word will be to ask me what you wanted me for.  I saw that in her eye.  She was curious:  that is why she sent me after you so quick.”

Dr. Philip groaned.  He felt he was walking among pitfalls.  He rapidly flavored some distilled water with orange-flower, then tinted it a beautiful pink, and bottled it.  “There,” said he; “I was mixing a new medicine.  Tablespoon, four times a day:  had to filter it.  Any lie you like.”

Mrs. Briscoe went to the kitchen, and gave her message:  then went to Mrs. Staines with the mixture.

Dr. Philip went down to the kitchen, and spoke to the servants very solemnly.  He said, “My good friends, I am come to ask your help in a matter of life and death.  There is a poor young woman up-stairs; she is a widow, and does not know it; and must not know it yet.  If the blow fell now, I think it would kill her:  indeed, if she hears it all of a sudden, at any time, that might destroy her.  We are in so sore a strait that a feather may turn the scale.  So we must try all we can to gain a little time, and then trust to God’s mercy after all.  Well, now, what do you say?  Will you help me keep it from her, till the tenth of March, say? and then I will break it to her by degrees.  Forget she is your mistress.  Master and servant, that is all very well at a proper time; but this is the time to remember nothing but that we are all one flesh and blood.  We lie down together in the churchyard, and we hope to rise together where there will be no master and servant.  Think of the poor unfortunate creature as your own flesh and blood, and tell me, will you help me try and save her, under this terrible blow?”

“Ay, doctor, that we will,” said the footman.  “Only you give us our orders, and you will see.”

“I have no right to give you orders; but I entreat you not to show her by word or look, that calamity is upon her.  Alas! it is only a reprieve you can give her and to me.  The bitter hour must come when I must tell her she is a widow, and her boy an orphan.  When that day comes, I will ask you all to pray for me that I may find words.  But now I ask you to give me that ten days’ reprieve.  Let the poor creature recover a little strength, before the thunderbolt of affliction falls on her head.  Will you promise me?”