"
"I want to go to your hospital: where is it?"
"I have none; and, unless the old hotel is ready, I shall stay on
the wharf with the boys until it is."
"Then I shall stay also. Don't send me away, Christie: I shall not
be a trouble long; surely David will let you help me die?" and poor
Fletcher stretched his one hand imploringly to her in the first
terror of the delirium that was coming on.
"I will not leave you: I'll take care of you, and no one can forbid
it. Drink this, Philip, and trust to Christie."
He obeyed like a child, and soon fell again into a troubled sleep
while she sat by him thinking about David.
The old hotel was ready; but by the time he got there Mr. Fletcher
was past caring where he went, and for a week was too ill to know
any thing, except that Christie nursed him. Then he turned the
corner and began to recover. She wanted him to go into more
comfortable quarters; but he would not stir as long as she remained;
so she put him in a little room by himself, got a man to wait on
him, and gave him as much of her care and time as she could spare
from her many duties. He was not an agreeable patient, I regret to
say; he tried to bear his woes heroically, but did not succeed very
well, not being used to any exertion of that sort; and, though in
Christie's presence he did his best, his man confided to her that
the Colonel was "as fractious as a teething baby, and the
domineeringest party he ever nussed.
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