Was it true, he asked himself, as he walked across the street to his office: was it indeed a fact that he was slowly dying? A great fear fell upon him: a dread of death. What, leave all this beautiful sunshine, this bright world in which he was so busy, and pass into the cold dark grave! Jacob turned sick at the thought. It was true that he had long been ailing; but not with any specific ailment. He could not deny that he was now more like a shadow than a man, or that every day seemed to bring him less of strength. Passing into his dining-parlour instead of into his private business room, he drank two glasses of wine off at once, and it seemed to revive him. He was a very abstemious man in general. Well, if Farmer Blake did say it--stupid old idiot!--it was not obliged to be true, reflected Jacob then. People judged by his spareness: he wished he could get a little fatter. And so he reasoned and persuaded himself out of his fears, and grew sufficiently reassured to transact his business, always pressing on a Friday. But that same evening, Jacob Chandler drove to North Villa in his gig, telling his wife he should sleep there for a week or two, for the sake of the fresh air. And the next morning, before he went to Islip, he sent for the doctor--Cole. "People are saying you won't live!" repeated Cole, having listened to Jacob's confidential communication. "I don't see why you should not live. Let's examine you a bit. You should not take up fancies." Cole could find nothing particular the matter with him. He recommended him rest from business, change of air, and a generous diet. "Try it for a month," said he. "I can't try it--except the diet," returned Jacob. "It's all very well for you to talk about rest from business, Cole, but how am I to take rest? My business could not get on without me. Business is a pleasure to me; it's not a pain." "You want rest from it all the same," said Cole. "You have stuck closely to it this many a year." "My mother died without apparent cause," said Jacob, dreamily. "She seemed just to drift out of life. About my age, too." "That's no reason why you should," argued Cole. Well, they went on, talking at one another; but nothing came of it. And Cole left, saying he would send him in some tonics to take. By the evening it was known all over the place that Jacob Chandler was ill and had sent for Cole. People talked of it the next morning as they went to church. Jacob appeared, looking much as usual, and sat down in his pew. The next to come in was Mrs. Cramp; who walked over to our church sometimes. She stayed to dine with the Lexoms, and went to call at North Villa after dinner; finding Mrs. Jacob and the rest of them at dessert with a guest or two. Jacob was somewhere in the garden.