And Sara? What must it have been for her! Her mind was one chaos of tumultuous emotion. She seemed to have accepted the fear as a certainty, to have been obliged to accept it. Oh, what would save him?--could not the whole faculty restore _his_ precious life? She passed another night of anguish, like unto the one she had passed nearly two months before, after parting with Oswald Cray in the Abbey graveyard--like it, but more apprehensively painful; and she wondered how she got through it. With the morning, things did not wear so intensely gloomy an aspect. The broad daylight, the avocations and bustle of daily life, are an antidote to gloom, and the worst prospect loses some of its darkness then. Sara tried to reason with herself that he could not have become so ill on a sudden as to be past recovery, she tried to say that it was foolish even to think it. But her mind could not be at rest, her state of suspense was intolerable, and before entering the breakfast-room she knocked at her father's study-door, and entered. Dr. Davenal was closing the Bible. "What is it, my dear?" "O papa"--and the words came forth with a burst of pent-up anguish--"I cannot live in this suspense. What did you mean last night? What is it that is the matter with you?" "I scarcely know, Sara. Only that I feel ill." "But--you--cannot--be going to die?" "Hush, my child! You must not agitate yourself in this way. Die? Well, no, I hope not," he added, quite in a joking manner. "I feel ten per cent better this morning than I did yesterday." "Do you!" she eagerly cried. "But--what you said last night?----" "Last night I felt gloomy--oppressed. Serious thoughts do intrude themselves sometimes on one's birthday. And I was really ill yesterday. I feel quite a different man today." Her fears were growing wonderfully calmer. "You are sure, papa?" "Sure of what? That I am better?--I am sure I feel so. I shall be all right, child, I hope." "Won't you have advice, papa?" she imploringly said. "Advice? That's a compliment to myself, young lady. Hallingham would tell you that there's no advice better than Dr. Davenal's own." "But, papa--I mean different advice. I thought of the clever London doctors. You must have them down to see you." "Some of the clever London doctors would be glad of the countryman Richard Davenal's advice. Seriously speaking, my dear, though I say it in all modesty, I don't believe there's a man in Europe more skilful than myself." "But they might suggest remedies that you would not think of. O papa! if there's a necessity, do summon them." "Be assured of one thing, Sara, and set your mind at rest. Should the necessity arise, I will not fail to seek any one or anything that I think may help me. My life has not of late been a happy one, but I am not quite tired of it; I wish I may live long, not only for your sake, but for--for other interests. There's a double necessity for it now." "And you will not go out today, papa?"