The cholera, which had hitherto only claimed a few victims in the city, now began to make fearful progress; and every day enlarged the catalogue of the dead, and those who were labouring under this awful disease. People seemed unwilling to name the ravages of the plague to each other; or spoke of it in low, mysterious tones, as a subject too dreadful for ordinary conversation. Just at this time Flora fell ill, and was forced to keep her bed for several days. During the time she was confined to her chamber, Mrs. Waddel kept up a constant lamentation, declaring that the reputation of her lodgings would be lost for ever, if Mrs. Lyndsay should die of the cholera. Yet, to do the good creature justice, she waited upon her, and nursed her with most unselfish kindness; making gallons of gruel, which the invalid scarcely tasted, and recommending remedies which, if adopted, would have been certain to kill the patient, for whose life she most earnestly and devoutly prayed. The very morning that Mrs. Lyndsay was able to leave her bed, her husband got a note from Mr. Gregg, informing him that the _Anne_ was to sail at four o’clock the next day. “My dear Flora,” said Lyndsay, tenderly, “I fear you are not able to go in your present weak state.” “Oh yes, I shall be better for the change. This frightful cholera is spreading on all sides. The sooner, dear John, we can leave this place the better. Two persons, Mrs. Waddel told me, died last night of it, only a few doors off. I know that it is foolish to be afraid of an evil which we cannot avoid; but I find it impossible to divest myself of this fear. I look worse than I feel just now,” she continued, walking across the room, and surveying her face in the glass. “My colour is returning—I shall pass muster with the doctors yet.” The great business of packing up for the voyage went steadily forward all day; and before six in the evening, trunks, bedding, and little ship stores, were on board, ready for a start. Flora was surprised in the afternoon by a visit from Mr. and Mrs. Gregg, and the two rosy girls, who expressed the greatest regret at their departure. They had made a plum-cake for Mrs. Lyndsay to eat during the voyage; and truly it looked big enough to have lasted out a trip to the South Seas, while Mrs. Gregg had brought various small tin canisters filled with all sorts of farinaceous food for the baby.