At length he said, suddenly: "Phineas, I do think it is wicked, downright wicked, for a doctor to be afraid of telling a patient he is going to die--more wicked, perhaps, to keep the friends in ignorance until the last stunning blow falls.
She ought to be told: she must be told: she may have many things to say to her poor father.

And God help her! for such a stroke she ought to be a little prepared.

It might kill her else!" He rose up and walked about the room.

The seal once taken from his reserve, he expressed himself to me freely, as he had used to do--perhaps because at this time his feelings required no disguise.
The dreams which might have peopled that beautiful sunset wood necessarily faded in an atmosphere like this--filled with the solemn gloom of impending death.
At last he paused in his hurried walk, quieted, perhaps, by what he might have read in my ever-following eyes.
"I know you are as grieved as I am, Phineas.

What can we do?
Let us forget that they are strangers, and act as one Christian ought to another.