It was a long visit, after Phyllis had come down; and, walking up and down the cloister with Bessie Merrifield, listened to her schemes of education for the little maidens. Lily she liked and admired, and she was convinced that Magdalen’s weak health and spirits were the result of the spoiling system. Phyllis trembled a little as she heard of the knocking about, out-of-doors ways that had certainly produced fine strong healthy frames and upright characters, but she forbore to say that if her little girl had to be left, it would be to her mother and Mysie. By and by Tom came down, and finding Geraldine alone in the drawing-room, he answered her inquiry with a very grave look. “Poor little thing! You do not think well of her! Is it as Angel feared?” “Confirmed disease, from original want of development of heart. Measles accelerated it. I doubt her lasting six months, though it may be longer or less.” “Have you told Angel?” “She knew it, more or less. She is ready to bear it, though one can see how her soul is wrapped up in the child, and the child in her.” “One thing, Tom, will you tell Miss Merrifield yourself, and alone, and make her feel that it is an independent opinion? It may save both the poor child and Angel a great deal.” “Are you prepared to keep her here?” “Of course we are. It is Angel’s natural home. Clement and I could think of nothing else.” “I knew you would say so. If I understand rightly there is something like a jealousy of her case in the Merrifields, prompted greatly by their wish to expiate any neglect of her father.” “That is what I gather from what Phyllis tells me.” “What a lovely countenance hers is in expression! No wonder Bernard has softened down. There is strength and solidity as well as sweetness in her face. Ah, there they are!” “I will call Phyllis in. Bessie Merrifield has almost walked her to death by this time.” So Phyllis was called and told. What she said was, “I only hope he will make her understand that it could not be helped, and it was not Angela’s fault.” Tom May had wisdom enough to make this clear in what was a greater shock to Elizabeth than it was to Angela, who had suspected enough to be prepared for the sentence, and had besides a good deal of hospital experience, which enabled her thoroughly to understand the Professor’s explanations. So, indeed, did it seem to Elizabeth at the time he was speaking; but she had lived a good deal in London, and had a great idea that a London physician must be superior to a man who had lived in the country, and, moreover, whom all the household called Tom, and she asked Mrs. Grinstead if he were really so clever. “Indeed, I think he is; and I have seen a great deal of his treatment. You may quite trust him. He lives down here at Stoneborough for his father’s sake, or he would be quite at the head of his profession.” “Superior to the two Doctors Brownlow?” “I should not say superior, but quite equal.”