l have to be quite still, and then you'll get better
soon."

But he was white to the lips, and their eyes as they looked at each
other understood. Her eyes were so blue--such a wonderful forget-me-not
blue! He felt if only they had been of a different colour he could have
borne it better. His heart seemed to be ripping slowly in his breast. He
kneeled there, holding her hand, and neither said anything. Then Annie
came in.

"Are you all right?" she murmured timidly to her mother.

"Of course," said Mrs. Morel.

Paul sat down and told her about Blackpool. She was curious.

A day or two after, he went to see Dr. Jameson in Nottingham, to arrange
for a consultation. Paul had practically no money in the world. But he
could borrow.

His mother had been used to go to the public consultation on Saturday
morning, when she could see the doctor for only a nominal sum. Her son
went on the same day. The waiting-room was full of poor women, who sat
patiently on a bench around the wall. Paul thought of his mother, in her
little black costume, sitting waiting likewise. The doctor was late. The
women all looked rather frightened. Paul asked the nurse in attendance
if he could see the doctor immediately he came. It was arranged so. The
women sitting patiently round the walls of the room eyed the young man
curiously.

At last the doctor came. He was about forty, good-looking,
brown-skinned. His wife had died, and he, who had loved her, had
specialised on women's ailments. Paul told his name and his mother's.
The doctor did not remember.

"Number forty-six M.," said the nurse; and the doctor looked up the case
in his book.

"There is a big lump that may be a tumour," said Paul. "But Dr. Ansell
was going to write you a letter."

"Ah, yes!" replied the doctor, drawing the letter from his pocket. He
was very friendly, affable, busy, kind. He would come to Sheffield the
next day.

"What is your father?" he asked.

"He is a coal-miner," replied Paul.

"Not very well off, I suppose?"

"This--I see after this," said Paul.

"And you?" smiled the doctor.

"I am a clerk in Jordan's Appliance Factory."

The doctor smiled at him.

"Er--to go to Sheffield!" he said, putting the tips of his fingers
together, and smiling with his eyes. "Eight guineas?"

"Thank you!" said Paul, flushing and rising. "And you'll come
to-morrow?"

"To-morrow--Sunday? Yes! Can you tell me about what time there is a
train in the afternoon?"

"The