Lady Sarah gave her maid some commission, which took her out of the room. Lady Sarah, no longer the formal, cold, slow personage whom Vivian detested, now seemed to him, and not only seemed but was, quite a different being, inspired with energy, and quickness, and presence of mind: she forgot herself, and her illness, and her prudery, and her love, and every other consideration, in the sense of her mother’s danger. Lady Glistonbury had but imperfectly recovered her recollection. At one moment she smiled on Vivian, and tried to stretch out her hand to him, as she saw him standing beside Lady Sarah. But when he approached Lady Glistonbury, and spoke to her, she seemed to have some painful recollection, and, looking round the room, expressed surprise and uneasiness at his being there. Vivian retired; and Lord Glistonbury, who was crying like a child, followed, saying, “Take me out with you--Dr. G---- ought to be here before now--I’ll send for another physician!--Very shocking--very shocking--at Lady Glistonbury’s time of life, too--for she is not an old woman by any means. Lady Glistonbury is eighteen months younger than I am!--Nobody knows how soon it may be their turn!--It’s very shocking!--If I had known she was ill, I would have had advice for her sooner. She is very patient--too patient--a great deal too patient. She never will complain--never tells what she feels, body or mind--at least never tells _me_; but that may be my fault in some measure. Should be very sorry Lady Glistonbury went out of the world with things as they are now between us. Hope to God she will get over this attack!--Hey! Mr. Vivian?”