fact that he was lying there under the same roof with Dora Millar,
as he would have been supposing she had listened to his suit eighteen
months ago, and he had fallen ill in the early days of their marriage.
He was afraid it was pure selfishness which made him cease to resent her
presence in close proximity to the fever ward, as he had resented it
when he did not imagine he might be one of its patients. Sometimes he
had a dim fancy that he heard her soft voice through the closed doors,
and that it soothed him, though he might be only dreaming, or it was
possible that there were tones in Annie's clear voice which under
certain emotions of pity and tenderness answered to those of her sister.

Often Annie just shook her head sorrowfully as she warned Dora off till
the nurse's dress could be changed. Occasionally she cried out
petulantly, "If he would only be impatient, and fret and grumble like
other people; if he would not take things so quietly; if he would resist
and struggle, I believe he might fight the battle and win it yet. I
think he will get over the crisis, but what of that if there is no
rallying? He is letting life go because he will not grasp it hard, I
suppose for the reason that he has no strong ties to bind him to it. He
has either such a poor opinion of his deserts, or such a trust in
Providence, that he considers whatever is is best, and does not exert
himself to alter the course of events so far as it is in his power. It
is beautiful in theory, but it does not always answer in practice. I am
not certain whether it does not proceed, after all, from constitutional
indolence, or the want of ambition, of which I used to accuse him, or
whether he is really too good to live. Anyhow, skill and nursing are
wasted upon him."

Dr. Hewett came to see Tom Robinson, and took the seat which Harry
Ironside vacated for him, leaving the old friends together.

"Hallo, Rector! It is strange for me to meet you here," said Tom's
feeble voice, while the ghost of his old shy smile passed over his
haggard face.

"It is equally strange for me to meet you, Robinson," said the Rector,
with an inconvenient lump in his throat.

"What a deal of trouble I'm giving," said Tom regretfully.

"Tut, man, nobody grudges the trouble, if you will but pick up and get
well again," said the clergyman, almost roughly.

"I can see that Ironside thinks badly of me," said Tom in his quiet way,
"and as far as feelings go, it seems to me I hav