"
When the medical attendant called that day to see his patient he found,
on examining Charles, and feeling his pulse, that he was decidedly and
rapidly on the recovery. On his way down stairs he was met by Woodward,
who said,
"Well, doctor, is there any chance of my dear brother's recovery?"
"It is beyond a chance now, Mr. Wood-ward; he is out of danger; and
although his convalescence will be slow, it will be sure."
"Thank God," said the cold-blooded hypocrite; "I have never heard
intelligence more gratifying. My mother is in the withdrawing-room, and
desired me to say that she wishes to speak with you. Of course it is
about my brother; and I am glad that you can make so favorable a report
of him."
On going down he found Mrs. Lindsay alone, and having taken a seat and
made his daily report, she addressed him as follows:
"Doctor, you have taken a great weight off my mind by your account of my
son's certain recovery."
"I can say with confidence, as I have already said to his anxious
brother, madam, that it is certain, although it will be slow. He is out
of danger at last.
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