He
would cry."
And as she spoke she wiped away her own tears.
"But he's looking much better, after all," said Harry. "Allow me to feel
your pulse."
The patient was pronounced much better; fresh orders were given; and Harry
took his leave.
But Adela felt vexed. She did not consider that he knew nothing of what
had passed between her father and her. To the warm fire-side of her
knowledge, he came in wintry and cold. Of course it would never do for the
doctor to aggravate his patient's symptoms by making love to his daughter;
but ought he not to have seen that it was all right between them now?--How
often we feel and act as if our mood were the atmosphere of the world! It
may be a cold frost within us, when our friend is in the glow of a summer
sunset: and we call him unsympathetic and unfeeling. If we let him know
the state of our world, we should see the rosehues fade from his, and our
friend put off his singing robes, and sit down with us in sackcloth and
ashes, to share our temptation and grief.
"You see I cannot offer you to him now, Adela," said her father.
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