I've got to go there and do the best I can." "Well, all I've got to say is, he ought to be ashamed of himself if he'd let his own baby die before he'd call in the doctor, I don't care how bad he's treated him.

I shouldn't wonder if John Upham was some to blame about that; there's always two sides to a story." Jerome made no reply.

He would have been puzzled several times lately, had he considered it of sufficient moment, by his mother's change of attitude towards Doctor Prescott.

He went to the china-closet beside the chimney.

On the upper shelves was his mother's best china tea-set; on the lower a little array of cloudy bottles; some small bunches of herbs, all nicely labelled, were packed in the wide space at the bottom.
His mother's antagonistic eyes followed him.