"
"Amen!" he said. And there came to Mrs. Roberts a feeling that this
earnest prayer, for the second time repeated by two men who prayed,
was a sort of seal from the Master.
She turned away from both gentlemen then; the tears were very near the
surface. She must do something to tone down the beating of her heart.
Sallie was at hand, and she went with her to another corner of the room,
and a low-toned conversation was carried on, scraps of which floated
back to the gentlemen in the form of "sheets," "grape jelly," "mutton
broth," "a soft pillow," and the like.
"I feel my patient growing better," the doctor said, with satisfaction.
"Is there no father here?" Mr. Roberts asked.
The doctor shook his head, but answered:--
"There is the most pitiful apology for a father that I ever saw,--a mere
wreck of a man! Spends his time in a sort of weak drinking, if I may
coin a phrase to describe him; he actually uses no energy even in that
business. Just staggers around and bemoans his lot; a most unfortunate
man, in his own estimation, with whom the world, through no fault of
his, has gone wrong. He is never downright intoxicated, and never free
from the effects of liquor. He is much like a wilted leaf in the hands
of this boy and girl.
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