The grateful father had called down God’s blessings so lavishly that Mildred very naturally said, “You have more reason to thank God than any one else, Mr. Ulph, for no doubt it was His blessing on our efforts that has made your child better.  The disease is such a dangerous one that the best human skill is often in vain.”

The physician shrugged his shoulders and looked significantly at Mr. Ulph, whose visage wrinkled into an odd grimace.

“You may dink vat you please and say vat you please, Miss Schoslin.  Men dink different off dese dinks vrom vomans.  I haf a vay off saying Gott pless beoples ven I feels goot dowards ’em, put I means ’em no harm.  Vat you American beoples somedimes say—­dank my schtars?  Dat will do shust so vell for me.  It vas dis vay:  der schild vas seek; you und your moder gome, und you make gauses und dere are der evvects.  I perlieve in gause und evvect, und you vas a very goot gause.”

“We certainly should be very poor neighbors had we not come and done all we could, and with your permission mother and I will help your wife to-day so she can get some rest.”

“I dank you vrom mine heart.  You make me dink off der heafenly podies—­you make order put no noise.  I vill do for you vatefer you vish und pe honest.”

Mildred now believed that she had gained the key to the old German’s character, and such a hold upon his feelings that he would eventually permit her to become his companion in his star-gazing on the roof.  Denied so much of the beauty she craved on the earth, she believed that she could find in an intelligent study of the skies a pleasure that would prove an antidote for the depressing circumstances of her lot.  She had often longed with intense curiosity to look through his telescope, and to penetrate some of the bright mysteries that glittered above her with such tantalizing suggestion.  She was adroit, however, and determined that the invitation should come unsolicited from him, so that his suspicions and cynical nature could give no sinister interpretation to her kindness.

The physician evidently shared in Mr. Ulph’s estimate of the mother of the child, for he explained to Mildred how the remedies he left should be used.  She and Mrs. Jocelyn acted as nurse most of the day, and the patient improved steadily.  After her return from the chapel in the afternoon, Mildred found the old German smoking his pipe in quite a placid mood, and she skilfully led him to talk on his favorite theme.  He soon became so interested and so confidential that he unlocked a small, closet-like room and showed her his treasures—­the telescope and other instruments, Argelander’s maps, and many books written by the most eminent authorities.