Flanagan--with
the apothecary--Mr. Flint--at the nearest corner--and he will give you
some things, which you are to bring here." But she had shuffled off
at last with a confident, "Yis, sur--aw, I knoo," her head nodding
satisfied assent, and her big thumb covering the note on the margin,
"Charge to Dr. C. Renton, Bowdoin Street," (which, _I_ know, could not
keep it from the eyes of the angels!) and he sat down to await her
return.
"Mrs. Miller," he said, kindly, "don't be alarmed about your child. She
is doing well; and, after you have given her the medicine Mrs. Flanagan
will bring, you'll find her much better, to-morrow. She must be kept
cool and quiet, you know, and she'll be all right soon."
"O Dr. Renton, I am very grateful," was the tremulous reply; "and we
will follow all directions, sir. It is hard to keep her quiet, sir;
we keep as still as we can, and the other children are very still; but
the street is very noisy all the daytime and evening, sir, and--"
"I know it, Mrs. Miller.
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