“Both Brownlows. Tom knows them well, and wrote. One lives at the East-end, and is sheet anchor to Whittingtonia. He began with Clement, but made the case over to the cousin, the fashionable one, when we made the great removal.” “So they consulted?” “And fairly see the way out of the wood, though not by any means quit of it, poor Tina; but there’s a great deal to be thankful for,” said Lance, with a long breath. “Indeed there is!” said the wife, with a squeeze of the hand. “But is there any more to be feared?” “Everything,” Lance answered; “heart chiefly, but the lungs are not safe. He has been whirling his unfortunate machine faster and faster, till no wonder the mainspring has all but broken down. His ideal always was working himself to death, and only Felix could withhold him, so now he has fairly run himself down. No rest from that tremendous parish work, with the bothers about curates, school boards and board schools, and the threatened ritual prosecution, which came to nothing, but worried him almost as much as if it had gone on, besides all the trouble about poor Alda, and the loss of Fulbert took a great deal out of him. When Somers got a living, there was no one to look after him, and he never took warning. So when in that Stinksmeech Mission he breathed pestiferous air and drank pestiferous water, he was finished up. They’ve got typhus down there--a very good thing too,” he added vindictively. “I put it further back than Mr. Somers’ going,” said Gertrude. “He never was properly looked after since Cherry married. What is he to do now?” “Just nothing. If he wishes to live or have a chance of working again, he must go to the seaside and vegetate, attempt nothing for the next six months, nor even think about St. Matthew’s for a year, and, as they told me afterwards, be only able to go on cautiously even then.” “How did he take it?” “He laid his head against Cherry, who was standing by his chair, put an arm round her, and said, ‘There!’ and she gave him such a smile as I would not have missed seeing on any account. ‘Mine now,’ she said. ‘Best!’ he said. He is too much tired and worn out to vex himself about anything.” “Where are they to go? Not to Ewmouth, or all the family worries would come upon them. Alda would give him no peace.” “Certainly not there. Brownlow advises Rockquay. His delicate brother is a curate there, and it agrees with him better than any other place. So I am to go and see for a house for them. It is the very best thing for Cherry.” “Indeed it is. Was not she like herself last night? Anna says she has never brightened up so much before! I do believe that if Clement goes on mending, the dear person will have a good time yet; nay, all the better now that she is free to be a thorough-going Underwood again.” “You Underwooder than Underwood!” “Exactly! I never did like--Yes, Lance, I am going to have it out. I do think Clement would have done better to let her alone.” “He did let her alone. He told me so.”