It was astonishing
how little some of the city doctors knew: they relied upon each other
too much; they should all be forced to drive over hill and dale, and
be knocked about in a hard country practice for eight or ten years
before they went to town. "Plenty of time to read their books in June
and January," the doctor would grumble to himself, and turn to look
fondly at the long rows of his dear library acquaintances, his
Braithwaites and Lancets, and their younger brothers, beside the first
new Sydenham Society's books, with their clumsy blot of gilding. And
he would stand sometimes with his hands behind him and look at the
many familiar rows of brown leather-covered volumes, most of them
delightfully worn with his own use and that of the other physicians
whose generous friend and constant instructor he had been through
years of sometimes stormy but usually friendly intercourse and
association.
When people in general had grown tired of discussing this strange
freak and purpose of the doctor and his ward, and had become familiar
with Nan's persistent interest and occupation in her studies, there
came a time of great discontent to the two persons most concerned. For
it was impossible to disguise the fact that the time had again come
for the girl to go away from home. They had always looked forward to
this, and directed much thought and action toward it, and yet they
decided with great regret upon setting a new train of things in
motion.
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