"Then all is well," said I, sinking back. That was all I cared to know. For days I lay in great danger, but not in any great suffering. Sometimes I recognized those about me, and sometimes not, but I suffered little, and lay most of the time in a kind of contented apathy. I had the best attendance, and Master Butts, the king's own physician, came to see me at the Duke's instance. He was a kind, benevolent old man, and much valued by the king, though he made no secret of his leaning to the new doctrine. I understood all his questions, and made a great effort to answer them clearly, but I was conscious all the time that I was talking arrant nonsense. I saw him shake his head as he turned away. "I fear there is not much hope," I heard him say in a low tone to Mistress Curtis. "If she lives she will be a lunatic, or more likely, an idiot." I understood his words, and they somehow angered me and roused me from the lethargy which was again stealing over my senses. I made a great effort to collect myself, and said, rather sharply: "I won't be an idiot! I know what I wish to say, but—" the wrong word was near coming again, but I caught it in time—"I don't say the words I mean." "Exactly," said the doctor, returning to the bedside, and regarding me with renewed interest. "You know what you mean, all the time you are saying something else. Is that so?" "Yes, sir," I answered. "Well, you must be a good girl and do as you are bid, and we will hope for the best. I think, Mistress Curtis, with all respect to Dr. Benton's opinion—" here he bowed to the other physician, who bowed again—"I think it would be well to try our patient with a little more nourishing diet—carefully, and by degrees, Dr. Benton—and watch the effect, and if there is any friend she specially wishes to see—as I think you told me she asked for some one?" "Yes, she has often asked for her Aunt Davis." "Then, let her see her aunt, for a few moments at a time, only cautioning her to avoid all exciting topics. In short, Mistress Curtis, you might as well let her have what she wants, poor thing. I do not believe it will make any difference." These words were spoken at the door, and I was not supposed to hear them, but I did, and knew their import well enough. I was not at all troubled at the idea of dying, but somehow I seemed to have an assurance in my mind that the end was not yet. Mistress Curtis brought me a dainty little mess of frumenty with cream, and having eaten it, I turned over and went to sleep. I must have slept long, for when I waked, it was growing dark. I was quite easy in respect of pain, and my head felt clear. I looked up and thought I was dreaming again, when I saw an upright little figure seated by the side of my bed. "Aunt Davis, is this really yourself?" I asked, putting out my hand to feel if she were a substantial person.