“Want to go?  No, why should I?  There would be nobody to look after the people here if I went away.  You don’t want me to leave, do you?” he added suddenly in an anxious tone.

“Nobody does, doctor,” she replied, parrying the question, her face flushing with pleasure.

Here Martha entered the room hurriedly and bending over Jane’s shoulder, whispered something in her ear.  The doctor straightened himself and leaned back out of hearing.

“Well, but I don’t think she will take cold,” Jane whispered in return, looking up into Martha’s face.  “Has she anything around her?”

“Yes, your big red cloak; but the child’s head is bare and there’s mighty little on her neck, and she ought to come in.  The wind’s begun to blow and it’s gettin’ cold.”

“Where is she?” Jane continued, her face showing her surprise at Martha’s statement.

“Out by the gate with that dare-devil.  He don’t care who he gives cold.  I told her she’d get her death, but she won’t mind me.”

“Why, Martha, how can you talk so!” Jane retorted, with a disapproving frown.  Then raising her voice so that the doctor could be brought into the conversation, she added in her natural tone, “Whom did you say she was with?”

“Bart Holt,” cried Martha aloud, nodding to the doctor as if to get his assistance in saving her bairn from possible danger.

Jane colored slightly and turned to Doctor John.

“You go please, doctor, and bring them all in, or you may have some new patients on your hands.”

The doctor looked from one to the other in doubt as to the cause of his selection, but Jane’s face showed none of the anxiety in Martha’s.

“Yes, certainly,” he answered simply; “but I’ll get myself into a hornet’s nest.  These young people don’t like to be told what’s good for them,” he added with a laugh, rising from his seat.  “And after that you’ll permit me to slip away without telling anybody, won’t you?  My last minute has come,” and he glanced at his watch.

“Going so soon?  Why, I wanted you to stay for supper.  It will be ready in a few minutes.”  Her voice had lost its buoyancy now.  She never wanted him to go.  She never let him know it, but it pained her all the same.

“I would like to, but I cannot.”  All his heart was in his eyes as he spoke.

“Someone ill?” she asked.

“Yes, Fogarty’s child.  The little fellow may develop croup before morning.  I saw him to-day, and his pulse was not right, he’s a sturdy little chap with a thick neck, and that kind always suffers most.  If he’s worse Fogarty is to send word to my office,” he added, holding out his hand in parting.

“Can I help?” Jane asked, retaining the doctor’s hand in hers as if to get the answer.

“No, I’ll watch him closely.  Good-night,” and with a smile he bent his head and withdrew.

Martha followed the doctor to the outer door, and then grumbling her satisfaction went back to the pantry to direct the servants in arranging upon the small table in the supper-room the simple refreshments which always characterized the Cobdens’ entertainments.