little black costume, sitting waiting likewise. The doctor was late. The
women all looked rather frightened. Paul asked the nurse in attendance
if he could see the doctor immediately he came. It was arranged so. The
women sitting patiently round the walls of the room eyed the young man
curiously.
At last the doctor came. He was about forty, good-looking,
brown-skinned. His wife had died, and he, who had loved her, had
specialised on women's ailments. Paul told his name and his mother's.
The doctor did not remember.
"Number forty-six M.," said the nurse; and the doctor looked up the case
in his book.
"There is a big lump that may be a tumour," said Paul. "But Dr. Ansell
was going to write you a letter."
"Ah, yes!" replied the doctor, drawing the letter from his pocket. He
was very friendly, affable, busy, kind. He would come to Sheffield the
next day.
"What is your father?" he asked.
"He is a coal-miner," replied Paul.
"Not very well off, I suppose?"
"This--I see after this," said Paul.
"And you?" smiled the doctor.
"I am a clerk in Jordan's Appliance Factory."
The doctor smiled at him.
"Er--to go to Sheffield!" he said, putting the tips of his fingers
together, and smiling with his eyes. "Eight guineas?"
"Thank you!" said Paul, flushing and rising. "And you'll come
to-morrow?"
"To-morrow--Sunday? Yes! Can you tell me about what time there is a
train in the afternoon?"
"There is a Central gets in at four-fifteen."
"And will there be any way of getting up to the house? Shall I have to
walk?" The doctor smiled.
"There is the tram," said Paul; "the Western Park tram."
The doctor made a note of it.
"Thank you!" he said, and shook hands.
Then Paul went on home to see his father, who was left in the charge of
Minnie. Walter Morel was getting very grey now. Paul found him digging
in the garden. He had written him a letter. He shook hands with his
father.
"Hello, son! Tha has landed, then?" said the father.
"Yes," replied the son. "But I'm going back to-night."
"Are ter, beguy!" exclaimed the collier. "An' has ter eaten owt?"
"No."
"That's just like thee," said Morel. "Come thy ways in."
The father was afraid of the mention of his wife. The two went indoors.
Paul ate in silence; his father, with earthy hands, and sleeves rolled
up, sat in the arm-chair opposite and looked at him.
"Well, an' how is she?" asked the miner at length, in a little voice.
"She can sit up; she can be carried down for tea," said Paul.
"That's a blessin'!" exclaimed Morel. "I hope we s'll soon be havin' her
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