She slept well. As for me, I passed such a wretched night, and got up socompletely worn out, that I had to go back to my room after breakfast,and lie down again. Lucilla persuaded me to do it. "Herr Grosse won't behere till the afternoon," she said. "Rest till he comes."
We had reckoned without allowing for the eccentric character of ourGerman surgeon. Excepting the business of his profession, Herr Grosse dideverything by impulse, and nothing by rule. I had not long fallen into abroken unrefreshing sleep, when I felt Zillah's hand on my shoulder, andheard Zillah's voice in my ear.
"Please to get up, ma'am! He's here--he has come from London by themorning train."
I hurried into the sitting-room.
There, at the table, sat Herr Grosse with an open instrument-case beforehim; his wild black eyes gloating over a hideous array of scissors,probes, and knives, and his shabby hat hard by with lint and bandageshuddled together anyhow inside it. And there stood Lucilla by his side,stooping over him--with one hand laid familiarly on his shoulder, andwith the other deftly fingering one of his horrid instruments to find outwhat it was like!
THE END OF THE FIRST PART
PART THE SECOND
Poor Miss Finch Page 45
