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But he smiled reassuringly at her as he bade her good-bye, and promised to send her a prescription that he knew she would like. But though, when she came to hear of it, Margaret approved this prescription, her grandfather strongly objected to it when it was first mooted to him. For it was change of air that the doctor prescribed change of air immediate and complete.
It seemed very hard to me at first; but I have now beaten it, and I wish I had the book." His father is pleased to think that he is "like to proceed not only a good navigator, but a good scholar": and he finds the much exacting, old classical prescription for the character of the brave man fulfilled in him. On 16th July 1666 the young man writes still from the Marie Rose
"I am sorry to hear it, Sir Charles." "Why?" Dr. Willis looked at Lady Bassett, as much as to say, "I shall not give him my real reason;" and then said, "I think it very undesirable you should be excited and provoked, until your health is thoroughly restored." Dr. Willis wrote a prescription, and retired. Lady Bassett sank into a chair, and trembled all over.
Having dealt out the prescribed medicines, calculated rather to increase than check the poor woman's malady, which was inflammation of the lungs, the self-satisfied doctor, swelling with his own importance, departed, leaving his patient now to contend with two evils, instead of one a dangerous disease, and the more dangerous effects of a quack's prescription.
Out of doors a silence reigned. A steady, cold wind, tasting already of snow, was blowing. The streets were almost deserted. Martie pushed the carriage briskly, and the sharp air brought colour to her cheeks, and a sort of desperate philosophy to her thoughts. Waiting for the prescription for Margar's croup, with the baby in her lap, Martie saw herself in a long mirror.
"Well, you see, missy, she was ill; it was in the rains; she was awfullee melancholy and depressed, and she had not much to fill her mind. She did not sew or ride or make music, like you do. Mr. Krauss was away, she was sick and lonely, and so she got the doctor's prescription made up over and over again.
Never yet did a child stop crying for being told its pain was nought and would soon be gone. Yet this prescription had been Lady Eynesford's although she was no philosopher, to her knowledge for Alicia, and it had left the patient protesting that she felt no pain at all, and yet feeling it all the more. "What do you accuse me of? Why do you speak to me?" she had burst out.
How could a doctor remedy this by a prescription? Impossible. The doctor, indeed, recommended blood-letting; but to lose blood in a peaceable manner was not only cowardly, but a bad cure for courage. Neal declined it: he would lose no blood for any man until he could not help it; which was giving the character of a hero at a single touch.
"I would have came this afternoon, but I was afraid you might have went out," he remarked. "Yes, I was out," replied Gordon, who was filling out a prescription. The man stooped and patted the bull terrier, which had not evinced the slightest emotion at his entrance. "Mighty fine dog," said the man. "Yes, he is a pretty good sort," replied Gordon.
If he believed that, in his own words, "to see one half of the human race excluded by the other from all participation in government was a political phenomenon that, according to abstract principles, it was impossible to explain," he could not logically deny that prescription was unjust when applied to women.
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