The Argosy — page 257: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

236 Letters from Majorca. “Not at all. Although things generally go by contraries, I have a firm conviction that all things come right in the end.” ‘What will be the end of our present complications?” laughed the doctor. ‘‘ Nurse Little, Nurse Long; tall and short by inverse ratio. ‘There will be no getting over it. It is frightful to contem- . plate. However; more help is coming ; that is the chief thing, and I am relieved. I am thankful.” More days passed on. ‘The boat containing Nurse Little was again due on the Tuesday morning. ‘This time the doctor undertook to meet it. Nurse Long, keeping watch in the sick-room, could see it approaching from afar off. As soon as it was in sight, the doctor was to be called, and would then go down to the quay. It wasa very simple matter. Tuesday morning brought the boat true to its time, and with it, arrived Nurse Little. Of course we were right, and she proved ex- tremely tall; dignified and commanding. Nurse Little, though quite young, has had a great deal of ex- perience, especially in typhoid fever. On first arriving she thought very seriously, almost the worst, of A.’s condition. It depressed us greatly. She was fresh to the case, could form an unbiassed opinion, and it was unfavourable. It seemed our own fears put into words. And as day after day passes, and he makes no visible progress, we know not what to think. Are we to begin to despair? Even the doctor says there must soon be a change for the better, or he shall lose heart. James, on the other hand, has it well. No complications, no delirium—because no lung affection. His worst symptom is want of vitality ; extreme prostration. It remains to be seen whether he can battle with this. And my own days are now growing short here. The weeks have passed, and it is time everyone who can do so escaped from the ex- cessive and advancing heat. My next letter will probably be the last I shall ever write to you or to anyone from this pleasant and sunny Palma de Mallorca. Life is too short, the world too large for repeated visits to the same spot. But I trust I may not depart before this wear- ing uncertainty has happily terminated, and the dark shadows so long hovering about us have fled before the sunshine of returning health. 7 Fare you well, my sister. Soon the wanderer will return, though only for a short season: and another watcher will bear you company beside our desolate hearth. GomichbooksnGo