reak she sent Harold, on his way to the post, for
an order from the relieving officer for medical attendance; and, after
some long and weary hours, the Union doctor came. He said, like Mr.
Blunt, that it was a rheumatic fever, the effect of hardship and
exposure; for which perhaps poor Paul--after his regular meals, warm
clothing, and full shelter, in the workhouse--was less prepared than many
a country lad, whose days had been much happier, but who had been
rendered more hardy by often going without some of those necessaries
which were provided for the paupers.

The head continued so much affected, that the doctor said the hair must
be taken off; which was done by old Master Warren, who singed the horses
in the autumn, killed the pigs in the winter, and shaved the men on
Saturday night. It was a very good thing for all parties; and he would
take no pay for his trouble, but sent down a pitcher with what he called
'all manner of yarbs' steeping in it, with which, as he said, to 'ferment
the boy's limbs.' Foment was what he meant; and Mrs. King thought, as it
was kindly intended, and could do no harm, she would try if it would do
any good; but she could not find that it made much difference whether she
used that or common warm water. However, the good will made Paul smile,
and helped to change his notion about its being very few that had any
compassion for a stranger. So, too, did good Mrs. Hayward, who, when he
was at the worst, twice came to sit up all night with him after her day's
work; and though she was not as tender a nurse as Mrs. King, treated him
like her own son, and moreover carried off to her own tub all the clothes
she could find ready to be washed, and would not take so much as a
mouthful of meat or drink in return, struggling, toil-worn body as she
was.

The parish, as might have been foreseen, would afford nothing but the
doctor to a chance-comer such as Paul. If he needed more, he might come
into the House, and be passed home to Upperscote.

But by the time this reply came, Mrs. King not only felt that it would be
almost murder to send a person in such a state four miles on a November
day, but she was caring so much for her patient, that it sounded almost
as impossible as to send Alfred away.

Besides, she had remembered the cup of cold water, she had thought of the
widow's cruse of oil and barrel of meal, and she had called to mind,
'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My