"My darling Bella," said he, "don't you make a mountain of a mole-hill.
The moment you told me I should be a father I began to get better, and
to laugh at Richard Bassett's malice. Of course I was terribly knocked
over at first by being captured like a felon and clapped under lock and
key; but I am getting over that. My head gets muddled once a day, that
is all. They gave me some poison the first day that made me drunk
twelve hours after; but they have not repeated it."
"Oh!" cried Lady Bassett, "then don't let me lose a moment. How could I
forget?" She opened the door, and called in Mr. Jones and the nurse.
"Mr. Jones," said she, "the first day my husband came here Mr. Salter
gave him a sedative, or something, and it made him much worse."
"It always do make 'em worse," said Jones, bluntly.
"Then why did he give it?"
"Out o' book, ma'am. His sort don't see how the medicines work; but we
do, as are always about the patient."
"Mr. Jones," said Lady Bassett, "if Mr. Salter, or anybody, prescribes,
it is you who _administer_ the medicine."
Jones assented with a wink. Winking was his foible, as puckering of the
face was Coyne's.
"Should you be offended if I were to offer you and the nurse ten
guineas a month to pretend you had given him Mr.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295