“I fear it has done her great harm,” replied the matron; “her cough is very trying, and she is in a high fever. I hope Mr. Canterham will come at once.” “I will wait to see him, and then run up to town for Dr. Leonards,” said Laurence. The local doctor came speedily. He looked very grave when he returned from his patient’s room. He confessed that there was fever, and some danger of inflammation. “I will bring down Dr. Leonards,” said Laurence. “I think it would be wise to do so,” replied the Hampton surgeon, wondering who this gentleman was who took so decided a part. Mr. Desmond lost no time in carrying out his intention; and Dr. Leonards arrived at River Lawn at four o’clock that afternoon, accompanied by Laurence, who could not rest in London. “I warned Mrs. Jerningham of her danger,” said the physician, gravely. “Indeed? I never heard that there was any cause for alarm. Did you make her understand as much?” “I spoke as plainly as one dares speak to a patient, and I begged her to let me talk to her aunt. But she forbade this, and promised to take all possible care.” “And she has taken no care. Great God, it is a kind of suicide!” The passionate exclamation startled the doctor, and he looked at Laurence, wondering what relationship he bore to the lady of whom they had been speaking. Laurence saw the wondering look, and divined its meaning. “I have known Mrs. Jerningham for many years,” he said. “Her father was one of my oldest and closest friends. It was at my instigation that she consulted you, but I had no idea there was danger.” There was no more said. Dr. Leonards saw the patient, and conversed with the Hampton surgeon. That there was danger he made no attempt to deny, when closely questioned by Mrs. Colton, who was half-distracted by this sudden calamity. He did not indeed say that the case was hopeless, but his manner was by no means hopeful. “The cough has been obstinately neglected for months,” he said; “and the maid tells me there has been frequent spitting of blood.” “And it has all been hidden from me,” cried Mrs. Colton; “how cruel--how cruel!” “Yes, it is sad that there should have been such concealment. I was very angry with the maid; but she told me she dared not disobey her mistress. I cannot conceal from you that there has been great mischief done.” This interview took place in the drawing-room, while Mr. Desmond paced to and fro the lawn, outside the open windows, anguish-stricken.