"The doctor means medically, madam," observed Captain Lawton, with a
face that would have honored the funeral of the deceased.
"I doctored him mostly with yarbs," said the housekeeper, smiling, as if
conscious of error.
"With simples," returned the surgeon. "They are safer in the hands of
the unlettered than more powerful remedies; but why had you no regular
attendant?"
"I'm sure Harvey has suffered enough already from having so much
concerns with the rig'lars," replied the housekeeper. "He has lost his
all, and made himself a vagabond through the land; and I have reason to
rue the day I ever crossed the threshold of his house."
"Dr. Sitgreaves does not mean a rig'lar soldier, but a regular
physician, madam," said the trooper.
"Oh!" cried the maiden, again correcting herself, "for the best of all
reasons; there was none to be had, so I took care of him myself. If
there had been a doctor at hand, I am sure we would gladly have had him;
for my part, I am clear for doctoring, though Harvey says I am killing
myself with medicines; but I am sure it will make but little difference
to him, whether I live or die."
"Therein you show your sense," said the surgeon, approaching the
spinster, who sat holding the palms of her hands and the soles of her
feet to the genial heat of a fine fire, making the most of comfort amid
all her troubles.
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