" The doctor had spoken
half to himself, following a thought that was often in his mind.
It was a little too much for the old servant. She watched him with a
puzzled expression on her face.
"Talkin' 'bout ministers, de Pa'son was here to see yo' yest'day
evenin'."
"Brother Matthews? I am sorry I was not at home."
"Yes sah, I was sorry too; he's a right pious-lookin' man, he sho is. I
don tole him de Lawd only knowed whar yo' was or when yo'd git back. He
laughed an' says he sho de Lawd wasn't far away wherever yo' was, an'
that I mus' tell yo' hit was only a little call, nothin' of
impo'tance--so's yo wouldn't bother 'bout it, I reckon."
Dr. Harry rose from the table. "Perhaps he will run in this evening. No,
this is prayer meeting night. Heigh-ho!" He stretched his tired body--"I
ought--"
The old woman interrupted him. "Now look a here Mars Harry, yo' ain't
goin' to leave this yer house tonight. Yo' goin' jest put on yo' slippa's
an' jacket an' set down in thar an' smoke yo' pipe a lille an' then yo'
goin' to bed. Yo' ain't et 'nough to keep er chicken 'live, an' yo' eyes
like two holes burned in er blanket. Won't yo' stop home an' res',
honey?" she coaxed, following him into the hall. "Yo' plumb tuckered."
The weary physician looked through the door into the library where the
lamp threw a soft light over the big table. The magazines and papers lay
unopened, just as they had been brought from the office by Uncle George.
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