"Well, _believe_," said Hester.
"Come, come!" he rejoined with rudeness, "you may hope or think or
believe what you like, but you have no business to act but on what you
_know_."
"I suppose you never act where you do not know!" returned Hester. "You
always _know_ you will win the battle, kill the tiger, take the
small-pox, and be the worse for it?"
"It's all very well for you to laugh!" returned the major; "but what is
to become of us if you take the small-pox! Why, my dear cousin, you
might lose every scrap of your good looks!"
"And then who on earth would care for me any more!" said Hester, with
mock mournfulness, which brought a glimmer of the merry light back to
the major's face.
"But really, Hester," he persisted, "this is most imprudent. It is your
life, not your beauty only you are periling!"
"Perhaps," she answered.
"And the lives of us all!" added the major.
"Is the small-pox worse than a man-eating tiger?" she asked.
"Ten times worse," he answered. "You can fight the tiger, but you can't
fight the small-pox. You really ought _not_ to run such fearful
risks."
"How are they to be avoided? Every time you send for the doctor you run
a risk! You can't order a clean doctor every time!"
"A joke's all very well! but it is our duty to take care of ourselves.
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