“You’ll see; I have something here for the young lady; where is mother?”

Barbara perceived that the boy was the bearer of some good tidings, which engrossed his whole attention, and the fresh happy face pleased her so much, that she forgot to scold and said smiling: 

“You make me very curious; what is the need of so much hurry?”

“I’ve bought something; is mother up-stairs?”

“Yes, show me what you have bought.”

“A remedy.  Infallible, I tell you; a remedy for headache.”

“A remedy for headache?” asked the widow in astonishment.  “Who told you that fib?”

“Fib?” repeated the boy, laughing.  “I got it below cost.”

“Show it to me, boy,” said Barbara authoritatively, snatching at the vial, but Adrian stepped back, hid the medicine behind him, and replied: 

“No, aunt; I shall take it to mother myself.”

“Did one ever hear of such a thing!” cried the widow.  “Donkeys dance on ropes, school-boys dabble in doctor’s business!  Show me the thing at once!  We want no quack wares.”

“Quack wares!” replied Adrian eagerly.  “It cost all my fair money, and it’s good medicine.”

During this little discussion Doctor Bontius came down-stairs with the burgomaster’s wife.  He had heard the boy’s last words and asked sternly: 

“Where did you get the stuff?”

With these words, he seized the hand of the lad, who did not venture to resist the stern man, took the little vial and printed directions from him and, after Adrian had curtly answered:  “From Doctor Morpurgo!” continued angrily: 

“The brew is good to be thrown away; only we must take care not to poison the fishes with it, and the thing cost half a florin.  You’re a rich young man, Meister Adrian!  If you have any superfluous capital again, you can lend it to me.”

These words spoiled the boy’s pleasure, but did not convince him, and he defiantly turned half away from the physician.  Barbara understood what was passing in his mind, and whispered compassionately to the doctor and her sister-in-law: 

“All his fair money to help the young lady.”

Maria instantly approached the disappointed child, drew his curly head towards her and silently kissed his forehead, while the doctor read the printed label, then without moving a muscle, said as gravely as ever: 

“Morpurgo isn’t the worst of quacks, the remedy he prescribes here may do the young lady good after all.”  Adrian had been nearer crying than laughing.  Now he uttered a sigh of relief, but still clasped Maria’s hand firmly, as he again turned his face towards the doctor, listening intently while the latter continued: 

“Two parts buckbeans, one part pepper-wort, and half a part valerian.  The latter specially for women.  Let it steep in boiling water and drink a cupful cold every morning and evening!  Not bad—­really not bad.  You have found a good remedy, my worthy colleague.