Fred agreed, and she went on without interruption for some little time, till at last he grew so excited by the story as to be very angry when the failing light obliged her to pause. She tried to extract some light from the fire, but this was a worse offence than any; it was too bad of her, when she knew how he hated both the sound of poking, and that horrible red flickering light which always hurt his eyes. This dislike, which had been one of the symptoms of the early part of his illness, so alarmed her that she had thoughts of going to call Aunt Geoffrey, and was heartily glad to see her enter the room.
"Well, how are you going on?" she said, cheerfully. "Why, my dear, how hot you must be in that habit!"
"Rather," said poor Henrietta, whose face, between the heat and her perplexity, was almost crimson. "We have been reading 'Nicolo,' and I am very much afraid it is as bad as Alex's visit, and has excited Fred again."
"I am quite sick of hearing that word excitement!" said Fred, impatiently.
"Almost as tired as of having your pulse felt," said Aunt Geoffrey. "But yet I must ask you to submit to that disagreeable necessity."
Fred moved pettishly, but as he could not refuse, he only told Henrietta that he could not bear any one to look at him while his pulse was felt.
"Will you fetch me a candle, my dear?" said Aunt Geoffrey, amazed as well as terrified by the fearful rapidity of the throbs, and trying to acquire sufficient composure to count them calmly. The light came, and still she held his wrist, beginning her reckoning again and again, in the hope that it was only some momentary agitation that had so quickened them.
"What! 'tis faster?" asked Fred, speaking in a hasty alarmed tone, when she released him at last.
"You are flushed, Fred," she answered very quietly, though she felt full of consternation. "Yes, faster than it ought to be; I think you had better not sit up any longer this evening, or you will sleep no better than last night."
"Very well," said Fred.
"Then I will ring for Stephens," said she.
The first thing she did on leaving his room was to go to her own, and there write a note to young Mr. Carey, giving an account of the symptoms that had caused her so much alarm. As she wrote them down without exaggeration, and trying to give each its just weight, going back to recollect the first unfavourable sign, she suddenly remembered that as she left her sister's room, she had seen Mrs. Langford, whom she had left with Fred, at the door of the store-closet. Could she have been giving him any of her favourite nourishing things? Mrs. Geoffrey Langford could hardly believe that either party could have acted so foolishly, yet when she remembered a few words that had passed about the jelly that morning at breakfast, she could no longer doubt, and bitterly reproached herself for not having kept up a stricter surveillance. Of her suspicion she however said nothing, but sealing her note, she went down to the drawing-room, told Mr. Langford that she did not think Fred quite so well that evening, and asked him if he did not think it might be better to let Philip Carey know. He agreed instantly, and rang the bell to order a servant to ride to Allonfield; but Mrs. Langford, who could not bear any one but Geoffrey to act without consulting her, pitied man and horse for being out so late, and opined that Beatrice forgot that she was not in London, where the medical man could be called in so easily.
It was fortunate that it was the elder Beatrice instead of the younger, for provoked as she already had been before with the old lady, it was not easy even for her to make a cheerful answer. "Well, it is very kind in you to attend to my London fancies," said she; "I think if we can do anything to spare him such a night as the last, it should be tried."
"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Langford. "It is very disappointing when he was going on so well. He must surely have been doing something imprudent."
It was very tempting to interrogate Mrs. Langford, but her daughter-in-law had long since come to a resolution never to convey to her anything like reproach, let her do what she might in her mistaken kindness of heart, or her respectable prejudices; so, without entering on what many in her place might have made a scene of polite recrimination, she left the room, and on her way up, heard Frederick's door gently opened. Stephens came quickly and softly to the end of the passage to meet her. "He is asking for you, ma'am," said he; "I am afraid he is not so well; I did not like to ring, for fear of alarming my mistress, but-"
Mrs. Geoffrey Langford entered the room, and found that the bustle and exertion of being carried to his bed had brought on excessive confusion and violent pain. He put his hand to his forehead, opened his eyes, and looked wildly about. "Oh, Aunt Geoffrey," he exclaimed, "what shall I do? It is as bad-worse than ever!"
"You have been doing something imprudent, I fear," said Aunt Geoffrey, determined to come to the truth at once.
"Only that glass of jelly-if I had guessed!"
"Only one?"
"One to-day, one yesterday. It was grandmamma's doing. Don't let her know that I told. I wish mamma was here!"
Aunt Geoffrey tried to relieve the pain by cold applications, but could not succeed, and Fred grew more and more alarmed.
"The inflammation is coming back!" he cried, in an agony of apprehension that almost overcame the sense of pain. "I shall be in danger-I shall lose my senses-I shall die! Mamma! O! where is mamma?"
"Lie still, my dear Fred," said Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, laying her hand on him so as to restrain his struggling movements to turn round or to sit up. "Resistance and agitation will hurt you more than anything else. You must control yourself, and trust to me, and you may be sure I will do the best in my power for you. The rest is in the hands of GOD."
"Then you think me very ill?" said Fred, trying to speak more composedly.
"I think you will certainly make yourself very ill, unless you will keep yourself quiet, both mind and body. There-"she settled him as comfortably as she could: "Now I am going away for a few minutes. Make a resolution not to stir till I come back. Stephens is here, and I shall soon come back."
This was very unlike the way in which his mother used to beseech him as a favour to spare her, and yet his aunt's tone was so affectionate, as well as so authoritative, that he could not feel it unkind. She left the room, and as soon as she found herself alone in the passage, leant against the wall and trembled, for she felt herself for a moment quite overwhelmed, and longed earnestly for her husband to think for her, or even for one short interval in which to reflect. For this, however, there was no time, and with one earnest mental supplication, summoning up her energies, she walked on to the person whom she at that moment most dreaded to see, her sister-in-law. She found her sitting in her arm-chair, Henrietta with her, both looking very anxious, and she was glad to find her prepared.
"What is it?" was the first eager question.
"He has been attempting rather too much of late," was the answer, "and has knocked himself up. I came to tell you, because I think I had better stay with him, and perhaps you might miss me."
"O no, no, pray go to him. Nothing satisfies me so well about him as that you should be there, except that I cannot bear to give you so much trouble. Don't stay here answering questions. He will be so restless if he misses you-"
"Don't you sit imagining, Mary; let Henrietta read to you."
This proposal made Henrietta look so piteous and wistful that her mother said, "No, no, let her go to Freddy, poor child. I dare say he wants her."
"By no means," said Aunt Geoffrey, opening the door; "he will be quieter without her."
Henrietta was annoyed, and walked about the room, instead of sitting down to read. She was too fond of her own will to like being thus checked, and she thought she had quite as good a right to be with her brother as her aunt could have. Every temper has one side or other on which it is susceptible; and this was hers. She thought it affection for her brother, whereas it was impatience of being ordered.