The doubt had sometimes crossed her mind whether she did love her husband as she had wished and intended to do, and as Milly had loved John. But now, in his present helpless and suffering state, she felt herself so capable of doing any thing for him, of enduring any thing for him,—she felt that on his recovery all her future happiness so completely depended, that she was quite reassured as to the extent of her affection. She reflected with gratitude on his having selected her from all the world; she forgot his little particularities, she thought only of his kindnesses, and she nursed him with all the devotion and forgetfulness of self with which Milly could have nursed her John. Weeks elapsed, and he did not recover his memory, nor did he seem to recognise those about him. In the mean time agents, servants, stewards,—all required orders and directions. There were law affairs pending. Lord Montreville’s letters had been carefully set aside in his study till he himself might be well enough to open them, when Lucy received a formal epistle from the agent, informing her that among these letters there were some containing papers which it was absolutely necessary should be returned for signature. Lucy made up her mind that she must open the letters. Before she went to Lord Montreville’s study to proceed with the necessary routine, she looked into the sick room, to see that all was quiet and comfortable. She was again closing the curtains, when she was almost overcome with joy at hearing him utter, in feeble accents, “Lucy, do not leave me!” CHAPTER XI. Se a ciascuno l’interno affanno Si leggesse in fronte scritto, Quanti mai che invidia fanno Ci farebbero pietà. METASTASIO. Lucy could scarcely command herself so as to answer her husband, without betraying a degree of emotion which might have been prejudicial to him in his present state of weakness. He thanked her for her attention to him; he told her he had often been aware of her presence, though he had not had the power to show it. She bathed his hand with tears of joy and gratitude; and at that moment, when he was endeared to her by long watching and by deep anxiety, she felt as if Milly’s love for John could not have exceeded her’s for her husband, her guide, her protector, the father of her child. The doctor came, and pronounced the patient convalescent; but prescribed the most perfect quiet, and the avoidance of every thing which might in any way arouse his feelings. Lucy told him of the letter she had received from the agent, and asked his opinion and advice upon the subject. He declared it out of the question that Lord Montreville should be allowed to attend to matters of business for weeks, nay, perhaps months.