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"
"I hope I shall," replied the doctor.
And he shut himself up to the search, and turned over the papers. But he
never found what he had lost, although he was still turning and turning
them at morning light.


CHAPTER XXVIII.
MISS DEBORAH'S ASTONISHMENT.

One dark morning, near the beginning of November--in fact, it was the
first morning of that gloomy month--Jan was busy in the surgery. Jan was
arranging things there according to his own pleasure; for Dr. West had
departed that morning early, and Jan was master of the field.
Jan had risen betimes. Never a sluggard, he had been up now for some
hours, and had effected so great a metamorphosis in the surgery that the
doctor himself would hardly have known it again: things in it
previously never having been arranged to Jan's satisfaction. And now he
was looking at his watch to see whether breakfast time was coming on,
Jan's hunger reminding him that it might be acceptable. He had not yet
been into the house; his bedroom now being the room you have heard of,
the scene of Dr. West's lost prescription.


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