"So it does," said Raymond, in the same dreamy manner, as if trying to shake something off. "Some years, isn't it? I wanted it done, somehow. I would sit down to it now, only I have fallen asleep a dozen times over it already." "Not very good for composition," said Julius, alarmed by something indefinable in his brother's look, and by his manner of insisting on what was by no means urgent. "Come, put it out of your head, and go to bed." "How did you find the boy Terry?" asked Raymond, again as if in his sleep. "I scarcely saw him. He was asleep." "And Worth calls it--?" "The same fever as in Water Lane." "I thought so. We are in for it," said Raymond, now quite awake. "He did not choose to say so to my mother, but I gathered it from his orders." "But Frank only came down yesterday." "Frank was knocked down and predisposed by the treatment he met with, poor boy. They say he drank quarts of iced things at the dinner and ball, and ate nothing. This may be only the effect of the shock, but his head is burning, and there is a disposition to wander. However, he has had his coup de grace, and that may account for it. It is Cecil." "Cecil!" "Cecil, poor child. She has been constantly in that pestiferous place. All Worth would say was that she must be kept quiet and cool, but he has sent the same draughts for all three. I saw, for Terry's came here. I fancy Worth spoke out plainly to that maid of Cecil's, Grindstone; but she only looks bitter at me, says she can attend to her mistress, and has kept me out of the room all day. But I will go in to-night before I go to bed," added Raymond, energetically. "You are ready to laugh at me, Julius. No one has meddled between you and Rosamond." "Thank God, no!" cried Julius. "Friend abroad, or you may leave out the r," said Raymond, "maid at home. What chance have I ever had?" "I'll tell you what I should do, Raymond," said Julius, "turn out the maid, keep the field, nurse her myself." "Yes," said Raymond, "that's all very well if--if you haven't got the fever yourself. There, you need say nothing about it, nobody would be of any use to me to-night, and it may be only that I am dead beat." But there was something about his eyes and his heavy breath which confirmed his words, and Julius could only say, "My dear Raymond!" "It serves us right, does not it?" said his brother, smiling. "I only wish it had not fixed on the one person who tried to do good." "If I could only stay with you; but I must tell Rosamond first." "No, indeed. I want no one to-night, no one; after that you'll look after my mother, that's the great thing." He spoke steadily, but his hand trembled so that he could not light his candle, and Julius was obliged to do it, saying wistfully, "I'll come up the first thing in the morning and see how you are."