"Now stand up there and let me look at you,—and those shoulders straight, please!"
While the nurse was helping Garth on with his shoes, Joan spoke with the specialist.
"What do you think about him?" she asked.
"Well," said the doctor, pulling his beard, "it's this way. I can't do much for him; I simply want to keep an eye on him and see that he has the right sort of appliance for that leg. But, my dear young lady,"—the doctor was very earnest,—"his mind is full of everything on earth except himself, and he's been living under absolutely ideal conditions for four years. That's done more than I could do. I wish you could have seen him when his family went away from here; I never thought he'd stand on his feet. Did you happen to notice that child that just left the office?"
"Yes, I did," said Joan.
"My dear young lady," said Dr. Stone, "that was a well child, compared to what Garth Pemberley was. He's done far more himself than I could do for him, he and that father and mother of his!" The doctor nodded his head gravely. "That's an extraordinary family," he said. "Well, good-bye! Good-bye, Mister Pemberley! Keep it up!"
