As he was tying it, although such careful
attention to the operation was necessary, he noticed Mrs. Fairfax's
hands, and he almost forgot himself and the accident.
"There is glass in the wrist," she said. "Will you kindly fetch the
surgeon? I do not like to leave."
He went at once, and fortunately met him in his gig.
On the third day after the mishap Dr. Midleton thought he ought to
inquire after the child. The glass had been extracted and she was doing
well. Her mother was at work in the back-parlour. She made no apology
for her occupation, but laid down her tools.
"Pray go on, madam."
"Certainly not. I am afraid I might make a mistake with my scissors if
I were to listen to you; or, worse, if I were to pay attention to them I
should not pay attention to you."
He smiled. "It is an art, I should think, which requires not only much
attention but practice."
She evaded the implied question. "It is difficult to fit, but it is
more difficult to please."
"That is true in my own profession."
"But you are not obliged to please.
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