"'I beg your pardon? Ah! . . . of the Haute Ecole?'

"'That's so: '_questrienne_.'

"'Well, you'll take my advice, and return home at once and put
yourself to bed.'

"'Don't you worry about me. It's the Bishop you've got to prescribe
for. I allowed I'd reach Cornice House and fetch you down, if it
took my last breath. Pete Stroebel at the drug store told me this
morning that Mr. Hewson had a doctor come to stop with him, so I
started right along.'

"'And how far did you calculate to reach in those shoes?'

"'I didn't calculate at all; I just started along. If the shoes had
hurt, I'd have kicked them off and gone without, or maybe crawled.'

"'Very good,' said I. 'Now, before we go any farther, will you
kindly tell me who the Bishop is?'

"'He's a young man, and he boards with me. See here, mister,' she
went on, pulling herself together and speaking low and earnest, 'he's
good; he's good right through: you've got to make up your mind to
that. And he's powerful sick. But what you've got to lay hold of is
that he's good. The house is No. 67, West fifteenth Street, which
is pretty easy to find, seeing it's the only street in Eucalyptus.
The rest haven't got beyond paper, and old Huz-and-Buz totes them
round in his pocket, which isn't good for their growth.'