"We will find means to secure the Doctor's attendance," said Lord Etherington; "and I believe my best way will be to walk back to the Well, and send him to wait on the patient. I am afraid I can be of little use to a poor woman in a childbed fever." "Puerperal, my lord, puerperal," said Lady Penelope, in a tone of correction. "In a puerperal fever, then," said Lord Etherington; "why, what can I do to help her?" "Oh! my lord, you have forgotten that this Anne Heggie, that I told you of, came here with one child in her arms--and another--in short, about to become a mother again--and settled herself in this miserable hut I told you of--and some people think the minister should have sent her to her own parish; but he is a strange, soft-headed, sleepy sort of man, not over active in his parochial duties. However, there she settled, and there was something about her quite beyond the style of a common pauper, my lord--not at all the disgusting sort of person that you give a sixpence to while you look another way--but some one that seemed to have seen better days--one that, as Shakspeare says, could a tale unfold--though, indeed, I have never thoroughly learned her history--only, that to-day, as I called to know how she was, and sent my maid into her hut with some trifle, not worth mentioning, I find there is something hangs about her mind concerning the Mowbray family here of St. Ronan's--and my woman says the poor creature is dying, and is raving either for Mr. Mowbray or for some magistrate to receive a declaration; and so I have given you the trouble to come with me, that we may get out of the poor creature, if possible, whatever she has got to say.--I hope it is not murder--I hope not--though young St. Ronan's has been a strange, wild, daring, thoughtless creature--_sgherro insigne_, as the Italian says.--But here is the hut, my lord--pray, walk in." The mention of the St. Ronan's family, and of a secret relating to them, banished the thoughts which Lord Etherington began to entertain of leaving Lady Penelope to execute her works of devoted charity without his assistance. It was now with an interest equal to her own, that he stood before a most miserable hut, where the unfortunate female, her distresses not greatly relieved by Lady Penelope's ostentatious bounty, had resided both previous to her confinement, and since that event had taken place, with an old woman, one of the parish poor, whose miserable dole the minister had augmented, that she might have some means of assisting the stranger.