Bless me! And is there anything
more idiotic than that you, the father of the best son in the world,
should sit here alone, fretting yourself yellow and lean until from a
stately looking man you grow to be a scarecrow, when one word from you
would bring your only child back again and with him the wife and sweet
grandchild, that you might all enjoy life together! If that isn't sheer
folly and a sin and a shame. . . ."
Here she checked herself, for her habitually decorous master stood before
her in his night shirt, barefooted, and laughed loud and merrily,
clapping himself boisterously on his wasted ribs and on the shrunken
thighs that carried his thin body. The precise widow was very much
upset, she was also horrified at the insolent answer which,--she knew not
how,--had just passed her lips. She endeavored to find some words of
excuse but they were not necessary, for the Court apothecary called out,
"Magnificent! Glorious! May all the saints be praised, we have found
it." And before the worthy woman knew what he was about the gray-haired
invalid had caught her in his arms and kissed her heartily on both
cheeks. But the happy excitement had been too much for him and with a
low groan he sank down on the edge of the bed and sobbed bitterly.
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