But he was such a gentleman, and to think of his being a Yankee!
I told him I hated all Yankees, and he just laughed, and did not mind
my stick, nor old umbrella, nor bundles a bit. You'd have thought my old cap
was a Parisian bonnet. I will not believe he was a Yankee."

Well, she went to see the doctor, the most celebrated in New York --
at the infirmary, of course, for she was too poor to go to his office;
one consultation would have taken every cent she had -- her cousin went
with her, and told me of it. She said that when she came downstairs to go
she never saw such a sight. On her head she had her blue cap,
and her green shade and her veil, and her shawl; and she had
the old umbrella and long stick, which she had brought from the country,
and a large pillow under her arm, because she "knew she was going to faint."
So they started out, but it was a slow procession. The noise and bustle
of the street dazed her, her cousin fancied, and every now and then she would
clutch her companion and declare she must go back or she should faint.
At every street-crossing she insisted upon having a policeman
to help her over, or, in default of that, she would stop some man and ask him
to escort her across, which, of course, he would do, thinking her crazy.

Finally they reached the infirmary, where there were already
a large number of patients, and many more came in afterwards.
Here she shortly established an acquaintance with several strangers.
She had to wait an hour or more for her turn, and then insisted
that several who had come in after her should go in before her,
because she said the poor things looked so tired. This would have
gone on indefinitely, her cousin said, if she had not finally dragged her
into the doctor's room. There the first thing that she did was to insist
that she must lie down, she was so faint, and her pillow was brought
into requisition. The doctor humored her, and waited on her.