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A number of our shipmates had put up tents in the neighbourhood, and at night we all gathered round the camp fire to talk and smoke away our misery. One, whose name I forget, was a journalist, correspondent for the 'Nonconformist'. Scott was an artist, Harrison a mechanical engineer. Doran a commercial traveller, Moran an ex-policeman, Beswick a tailor, Bernie a clogger.

If you die, then Rudolph and your mother will say, 'Ah, if we'd only had a doctor!" "That is true," gasped Mina. "Send for Dr. Beswick, mother." A neighbor was engaged to carry the message to Dr. Beswick in Seventeenth street, and Phillida went her way homeward, slowly and in dejection. Dr.

She was glad to escape into the room again, for she was afraid to trust her own feelings longer in Millard's company. The arrangement was made that Dr. Beswick should send a nurse, and then Millard and Beswick went down-stairs together. Phillida stayed till Mr. Martin came home, hoping to soften the scene between husband and wife.

"You seem to think that some diseases are curable by faith and some not, Dr. Beswick," she said. "Certainly," said Beswick, tipping his chair back and drumming on the table softly with his fingers. "We use faith-cure and mind-cure in certain diseases of the nerves. Nothing could have been better for that Schulenberg girl than for you to make her believe she could walk.

The doctor relented when he found that his wife would sustain him in it. "I may answer your question if you ask it merely as a friend of the patient, but not as recognizing your standing as a practitioner," he said. Phillida answered with a quick flush of pain and surprise, "I am not a practitioner, Dr. Beswick. You are under some mistake. I know nothing about medicine."

I'll make you a present when you are done." "That'll be better," she said, though Millard himself could hardly see the difference. Mrs. Beswick, at the cost of a little persistence and a good many caresses, succeeded in getting the doctor to consent that she should go to the Callenders'. The risk of contagion she pooh-poohed. She called at Mrs.

About the time that Phillida got her flowers Mrs. Beswick sat mending her husband's threadbare overcoat. His vigorous thumbs, in frequent fastening and loosening, had worn the cloth quite through in the neighborhood of the buttons.

I should have tried that dodge myself, but in a different way, if I had been called." "Don't speak in that way, dear," interposed Mrs. Beswick, softly, seeing that Phillida was pained. "Why, what's the matter with that way?" said the doctor, good-naturedly. "Well, Miss Callender will think you are not honest if you talk about trying a dodge.

Beswick, with a rueful laugh. "Indeed, it would be a kindness, Mrs. Beswick, and it might save a valuable life." "I don't know what to say till I consult the doctor," she said, dreaming of all the things she could do toward increasing the doctor's respectability if she had a little extra money. "I can not see that it would hurt his practice if managed in that way."

She has got to die, and I left her only some soothing medicine, and told her mother there was no use of making a doctor's bill." There was a straightforward rectitude in Dr. Beswick that inclined Phillida to forgive his bluntness of utterance and lack of manner. Here at least was no managing of a patient to get money, after the manner hinted at by Miss Bowyer.