claimed the doctor.
"He never treats us like that, any more than you could Raby."
"The minister at the Corners said so," moaned Sally. "He said it was
till the third and fourth generations."
At such moments, Dr. Eben, in his heart, thought undevoutly of
ministers. "A bruised reed, he will not break," came to his mind, often
as he looked at this anguish-stricken woman, watching her only child's
suffering, and morbidly believing that it was the direct result of her
own sin. But Dr. Eben found little time to spare for his ministrations
to Sally, when Hetty was in such distress. He had never seen any thing
like it. She paced the house like a wounded lioness. She could not bear
to stay in the room: all day, all night, she walked, walked, walked; now
in the hall outside his door; now in the rooms below. Every few moments,
she questioned the doctor fiercely: "Is he no better?" "Will he have
another?" "Can't you do something more?" "Do you think there is a
possibility that any other doctor might know something you do not?"
"Shan't I send Caesar over to Springton for Dr. Wilkes; he might think of
something different?" These, and a thousand other such questions, Hetty
put to the harassed and tortured Dr. Eben, over and over, till even his
loving patience was wellnigh outworn. It was strengthened, however, by
his anxiety for her. She did not eat; she did not drink; she looked
haggard and feverish. This child had been to her from the day of his
birth like her own: she loved him with all the pent-up forces of the
great womanhood within her, which thus far had not found the natural
outlet of its affections.
"Doctor," she would cry vehemently, "why should Raby die? God never
means that any children should die. It is all our ignorance and
carelessness; all the result of broken law. I've heard you say a hundred
times, that it is a thwarting of God's plan whenever a child dies: why
don't you cure Raby?"
"That is all true, Hetty," Dr. Eben would reply; "all very true: it is a
thwarting of God's plan whenever any human being dies before he is fully
ripe of old age. But the accumulated weight of generations of broken law
is on our heads. Raby's little life has been all well ordered, so far
as we can see; but, farther back, was something wrong or he would not be
ill to-day. I have done my best to learn, in my little life, all that is
known of methods of cure; but I have only the records of human ignorance
to learn from, and I must fa
|