"Going to die! Oh, pooh, pooh, pooh! she is not going to die, lad. Tell me all about it," said the doctor in an encouraging tone.
"She has had so much grief and care and anxiety, sir--doctor, is there any such malady as a broken heart?"
"Broken heart? Pooh, pooh! no, my child, no! never heard of such a thing in thirty years' medical experience! Even that story of a porter who broke his heart trying to lift a ton of stone is all a fiction. No such a disease as a broken heart. But tell me about your mother."
"It is of her that I am talking. She has had so much trouble in her life, and now I think she is sinking under it; she has been failing for weeks, and last night while washing the teacups she fainted away from the table!"
"Heaven help us! that looks badly," said the doctor.
"Oh, does it?--does it, sir? She said it was 'nothing much.' Oh, doctor, don't say she will die--don't! If she were to die, if mother were to die, I'd give right up! I never should do a bit of good in the world, for she is all the motive I have in this life! To study hard, to work hard and make her comfortable and happy, so as to make up to her for all she has suffered, is my greatest wish and endeavor! Oh, don't say mother will die! it would ruin me!" cried Traverse.
"My dear boy, I don't say anything of the sort! I say, judging from your account, that her health must be attended to immediately. And--true I have retired from practice, but I will go and see your mother, Traverse."
"Oh, sir, if you only would! I came to ask you to do that very thing. I should not have presumed to ask such a favor for any cause but this of my dear mother's life and health, and--you will go to see her?"
"Willingly and without delay, Traverse," said the good man, rising immediately and hurrying into an adjoining chamber.
"Order the gig while I dress, Traverse, and I will take you back with me," he added, as he closed the chamber door behind him.
By the time Traverse had gone down, given the necessary orders and returned to the library the doctor emerged from his chamber, buttoned up his gray frock-coat and booted, gloved and capped for the ride.
They went down together, entered the gig and drove rapidly down the willow avenue, slowly through the iron gate and through the dark thicket and down the wooded hill to the high road, and then as fast as the sorrel mare could trot toward town. In fifteen minutes the doctor pulled up his gig at the right-hand side of the road before the cottage gate.