“But I haven’t the children,” said the patient sourly, and sitting down with a sigh.

“I pity you, then,” said Dr. Fisher, with the air of having been a family man for years.  “Well, besides owning the Peppers, I’m going off with them to”—­there he stopped, for before he knew it, the secret was well-nigh out.

XIX

PHRONSIE IS WELL AGAIN

But Polly was not to be told yet.  When Papa Fisher walked in to dinner, the merry party around the oak table were waiting over the ices and coffee for his appearance.

“Oh, Papa Fisher!” cried Polly in dismay, turning from one of Alexia’s sallies, and dropping her spoon.  “Now you’re all tired out—­too bad!”

Mother Fisher flushed up, and set her lips closely together.  Ben looked disapproval across the board, and Polly knew that the wrong thing had been said.

“Oh!  I didn’t mean—­of course you must take care of the sick people,” she said impulsively.

“Yes, I must,” said Dr. Fisher wearily, and pushing up the shock of gray hair to a stiffer brush over his brow.  “That’s what I set out to do, I believe.”

“But that’s no reason why you should tire yourself to death, and break down the first year,” said Mr. King, eyeing him sharply.  “Zounds, man, that isn’t what I brought you up from the country for.”

Dr. Fisher looked into his wife’s eyes and smiled.  “I believe you brought me,” the smile said.  But he kept his tongue still.

“And you must get accustomed to seeing suffering that you can’t help.  Why, man alive, the town’s full of it; you can’t expect to stop it alone.”

“I’ll do what I can to help,” said the little doctor between his teeth, and taking a long draught of the coffee his wife put by his plate.  “I suppose there’s no objection to that.  Now, that’s good,” smacking his lips in a pleased way.

“Of course not, if you help in the right way,” said old Mr. King stoutly, “but I’ll wager anything that you’re picking up all sorts of odd jobs among the poor, that belong to the young doctors.  Your place is considerably higher, where you can pick and choose your patients.”

Dr. Fisher laughed—­an odd little laugh, that along with its pleasant note, carried the ring of a strong will.

“Oh! well, you know, I’m too old to learn new ways,” he said.  “Better let me wag on at the old ones.”

Mr. King gave an exclamation of disapproval.  “It’s lucky your time is short,” he said grimly, and the secret was nearly out!

“Phronsie is coming downstairs to-morrow, isn’t she?” asked Jasper quickly, over to the doctor.

“Oh! no, indeed, I think not,” answered Mr. King before Dr. Fisher had time to reply.  “She would better wait a day or two longer.  Isn’t that so, Doctor?” at last appealing to him.

“I don’t agree with you,” the little doctor drew off his attention from his plate.  “You see she has regained her strength remarkably.  Now the quicker she is in the family life again, the better for her.”