Tales of the Cloister
"It is only a little thing, of course," she said, with something of her old-time vivacity, "but I can't afford to be ill at all. This has been coming on for a year, I think. I have had queer attacks. Do you suppose it is my heart? You must make a careful examination, doctor, and give me something to build me up thoroughly. Then after a while I will take a rest."
The doctor made the examination skilfully. After it was over he slowly replaced his instruments in their case. He would have given much to avoid the bad quarter of an hour that lay before him.
"Miss Randolph, you must take a rest now," he said, at last.
The woman opened her eyes at the tone and the rarely used name. A singular, rebellious light flashed in them.
"Why?" she asked, tersely. The doctor parried the question.
"You are run down," he said. "Very much run down." She had to be told; half measures would effect little.
"That is why I have called you in," she retorted.
"Miss Randolph," he said, deliberately, "you are in a grave condition. You have a surprisingly small amount of vitality, your
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