"This was too much; and I interrupted him almost at random--

"'You remind me of the purpose of my call. I hope, if only to
satisfy Miss Montmorency, you won't mind my sounding your chest and
putting a few questions to you.'

"Seeing that I had already pulled out my stethoscope, he gave way,
feebly protesting that it was not worth my trouble. The examination
merely assured me of that which I knew already--that this young man's
days were numbered, and the numbers growing small. I need not say I
kept this to myself.

"'You must let me call again to-morrow,' said I. 'I've a small
medicine chest up at the Cornice House, and you want a tonic badly.'

"Upon this he began, with a confused look and a slight stammer:
'Do you know--I'm afraid you will think it rude, but I didn't mean it
for rudeness--really. Your visit has given me great pleasure--'

"It flashed on me that he had called himself 'a poor man.'

"'I wasn't proposing to doctor you,' I put in; and it was a shameless
lie. 'You may take the tonic or not; it won't do much harm, anyway.
But a gentle walk every day among the pines here--the very gentlest,
nothing to overtax your strength--will do more for you than any
drugs. But if you will let me call, pretty often, and have a talk--
I'm an Englishman, you know, and an English voice is good to hear--'

"His face lit up at once. 'Ah, if you would!' said he; and we shook
hands."