"Allow me, madam, to finish my sentence before you make up your mind to be
shocked.--When the devil goes out of a man, or a woman either, he gives a
terrible wrench by way of farewell. Now, as the prophet Job teaches us,
all disease is from the devil; and--"

"The prophet Job!--Mr. Smith?"

"Well, the old Arab Scheik, if you like that epithet better."

"Really, Mr. Smith!"

"Well, I don't mind what you call him. I only mean to say that a disease
sometimes goes out with a kind of flare, like a candle--or like the poor
life itself. I believe, if this is an intermittent fever--as, from your
description, I expect it will prove to be--it will be the best thing for
her."

"Well, we shall see what Dr. Wade will say."

"Dr. Wade?" I exclaimed.

"Of course, my brother will not think of trusting such a serious case to
an inexperienced young man like Mr. Armstrong."

"It seems to me," I replied, "that for some time the case has ceased to be
a serious one. You must allow that Adela is better."

"Seemed to be better, Mr. Smith. But it was all excitement, and here is
the consequence. I, as far as I have any influence, decidedly object to
Mr. Armstrong having anything more to do with the case."