Jane and the young physician were placed in very intimate relations with each other, and he naturally enough fancied that what he so much wished for himself would appear desirable to a man so acute and sensible as Vivian Phillips.  Her calm temper, her promptitude, her method, were all shown to great advantage in a sick room.  He forgot that Elsie’s gentle tender ways and her overflowing sympathy might be equally attractive, but Dr. Vivian was quite used to all sorts of sick rooms, and to all sorts of nursing, and nothing was very striking to him, so that he fell in love with neither sister, though he liked them both very much.

Jane in particular was one of those women who may count herself fortunate if she meets with one real lover in her lifetime.  William Dalzell was not to be counted, except perhaps as a blank, but by means of the most favouring circumstances, she had taken Francis Hogarth’s heart into her possession, at least for time, and this was her one prize in the strange lottery of love.  No other attachment she was likely to inspire, as she felt herself, but her lover was not so clear-sighted.  Dr. Vivian Phillips had a great respect for her, and enjoyed her society now and then as a pleasant change from the more insipid company of his sisters or their female acquaintances, but to spend a life with her would be too fatiguing.  She seemed always to require him to think his best, to say his best, and to do his best in her company.  Now a wife just intelligent enough to appreciate his own abilities, but willing in all things to be guided by him, was a desirable thing; but one so thoroughly his equal as Jane Melville would allow him no repose.

The children did not gain strength rapidly, and Emily in particular made a most tardy recovery.  Her illness threatened permanently to weaken her constitution, particularly as winter was fast approaching, and she had felt that season in England very trying during the preceding year.  Her uncle Vivian strongly recommended that she should winter in a milder climate to re-establish her health, and Mr. Phillips thought going to the south of France, where the girls might acquire the language without much trouble, would be a good arrangement; but when he mentioned it to Emily herself as an excellent idea, the child languidly put it aside.

“Why not take up back to dear old Wiriwilta?” said she.  “We were never ill there.  It is warmer and drier than France; and if Miss Melville and dear Alice go with us, we can learn lessons just as well there as here.  I am tired of this great London, with its smoke and its noise.”