Dr. Ballard laughed. "His left hand's in training already. Between the whiskey and the ether, last night, I was almost anesthetized myself. But joking aside, I'm going to leave Buller in your care. I'll show you about the bandaging, so when Driggs gets through with the patient, you can take him up. I wouldn't like to trust to Mrs. Buller. She's a slipshod creature, sure to neglect. Dr. Driggs tells me, Buller dreads _him_ like the mischief, so he won't go there any longer than he has to. May I trust you to keep your eye on him, follow him up, and let me know if there's any hitch in the healing?"
"Another thing," Dr. Ballard paused. "I'd be glad to feel you are keeping an eye on--a--Crewesmere."
Mrs. Slawson nodded. "Certaintly, again. But you don't think--that is, you ain't in doubt about the ol' lady, are you? I'd hate to think she might have somethin' I ain't used to. I kinda got accustomed to _strokes_ now, so's if she'd have any more, I'd know just how to take a-holt, but if she set about gettin' up somethin' _new_, it'd sorta rattle me, maybe. You never can tell."
"No, that's it! You never can tell. _I_ can't tell."
"It ain't as if she didn't have a sympton to show you," pleaded Martha, "so's you'd be workin' in the dark. When ladies is that way, the doctors says to'mselves: 'Her color's good, an' her pulse is strong, which proves she's far from a well woman. While I'm waitin' for somethin' to happen, I'll remove her appendicitis.' Folks has such funny furbelows inside'm nowadays, I don't wonder the doctors is puzzled. What's the use o' adenoids now, an' appendicitises, I should like to know, if it's only to go to the trouble an' expense of havin' 'm cut out?"
"Quite so," acquiesced Dr. Ballard gravely. "No, I'm not anxious about Madam Crewe's appendix. I'm anxious about her--granddaughter."
"Oh!" said Martha. "It's _her_ you want to remove."
Dr. Ballard flushed. "Yes, Mrs. Slawson. That is--I wish to marry Miss Crewe. You already know of Madam's opposition. I don't mind that--any more. But something has happened--I don't know what--to change Miss Crewe, herself. I would never ask her to desert her grandmother. In fact, I would not respect her if she did desert her, leave her alone in her infirmity and old age. But I don't want her mind to be embittered. She is not happy. I wish you'd look after her--lend her a helping hand, once in a while. Lend her a helping _heart_."