"What was she doing?"

"Talkin', seh; jiss talkin' and prayin'."

"And exciting the man into a fever," said the doctor, entering at that
moment. "I came here half an hour ago," he continued, turning to me,
"and found this woman--who really is a good nurse--turned out of her
husband's room by that termagant who has just gone, and whom I found in
the act of preparing the man for death, _she_ having decided his hours
on earth were numbered; in fact, I actually chanced in upon a species of
commendatory prayer, which, if continued another half hour--and I have
every reason to think it would have been--would almost inevitably have
ended the man's life."

"I suppose I had better not see him this morning, then," said I.

"Oh, yes; _you_ can see him; he's doing well now, and if he doesn't talk
too much, I think the sight of a cheerful face will do him good," and I
left him giving some directions to Ailse, while I proceeded up-stairs to
the room where Thomas lay. He was awake, so I walked up to his bedside,
and asked him how he felt.

"I'm tollubul, thankee, seh; de medicine makes me kind o' sleepy, that's
all."

I seated myself beside him, there was a moment or two of silence, then
he asked, fretfully:

"Whai--whaih's Ailse? I like to see the 'oman 'roun'; s'haint got no