Esther grew seriously alarmed. Their doctor spoke
of Brompton Hospital, and she insisted on his going there to be examined.
William would not have her come with him; and she did not press the point,
fearing to irritate him, but sat at home waiting anxiously for him to
return, hoping against hope, for their doctor had told her that he feared
very long trouble. And she could tell from his face and manner that he had
bad news for her. All her strength left her, but she conquered her
weakness and said--
"Now tell me what they said. I've a right to know; I want to know."
"They said it was consumption."
"Oh, did they say that?"
"Yes, but they don't mean that I'm going to die. They said they hoped they
could patch me up; people often live for years with only half a lung, and
it is only the left one that's gone."
He coughed slightly and wiped the blood from his lips. Esther was quite
overcome.
"Now, don't look like that," he said, "or I shall fancy I'm going to die
to-morrow."
"They said they thought that they could patch you up?"
"Yes; they said I might go on a long while yet, but that I would never be
the man I was."
This was so obvious she could not check a look of pity.
"If you're going to look at me like that I'd sooner go into the hospital
at once. It ain't the cheerfulest of places, but it will be better than
here.
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