“If you would only let me go on, dear Fred,” said she, thinking that occupying him would be better than arguing. “It is so dark where you are, and I will try to get on better. There is an easier piece coming.” 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.