I found Iris sitting
by the Little Gentleman's pillow. To my disappointment, the room was
darkened. He did not like the light, and would have the shutters kept
nearly closed. It was good enough for me;--what business had I to be
indulging my curiosity, when I had nothing to do but to exercise such
skill as I possessed for the benefit of my patient? There was not much
to be said or done in such a case; but I spoke as encouragingly as I
could, as I think we are always bound to do. He did not seem to pay any
very anxious attention, but the poor girl listened as if her own life
and more than her own life were depending on the words I uttered. She
followed me out of the room, when I had got through my visit.
How long?--she said.
Uncertain. Anytime; to-day,--next week,--next month,--I answered.--One
of those cases where the issue is not doubtful, but may be sudden or
slow.
The women of the house were kind, as women always are in trouble. But
Iris pretended that nobody could spare the time as well as she, and
kept her place, hour after hour, until the landlady insisted that she'd
be killin' herself; if she begun at that rate, and haf to give up, if
she didn't want to be clean beat out in less than a week.
At the table we were graver than common.
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