‘But it’s a new thing, isn’t it,’ remarked Amelia, ’for Miss.  Lord to be in bad health?’

‘She has suffered a good deal, I’m afraid,’ said Jessica, ’since her father’s death.  The doctor tells her she oughtn’t to live in that dull house through the winter.’

‘In that case,’ Samuel exclaimed, ’of course she must go at once—­ of course!’

He never spoke of Nancy but with stress of unctuous generosity.  This, if his hearers knew what he had suffered at her hands, must tell greatly to his credit; if they were not aware of the circumstances, such a tone would become him as the young lady’s hopeful admirer.

‘I fear her nerves are affected,’ pursued Jessica.  ’She can’t bear society.  So unlike her, isn’t it?  She goes out very little indeed, —­sometimes not for days together.  And really she sees nobody.  I’m getting quite anxious about her.’

The subject was an awkward one in this house, and it soon gave place to freer conversation.  On her way home, though mechanically repeating dates and formulae, Jessica could not resist the tendency of her thoughts, to dwell on Samuel’s features and Samuel’s eloquence.  This was a new danger; she had now little more than a fortnight for her final ‘cram,’ and any serious distraction meant ruin.

In a day or two she took leave of Nancy, who had chosen for her winter retreat no less remote a spot than Falmouth.  Horace having settled himself in lodgings, the house was to be shut up; Mary Woodruff of course went down into Cornwall.  Nancy had written a letter to Mr. Barmby, senior, excusing herself for not being able to see him before her departure; it was an amiable letter, but contained frank avowal of pain and discontent at the prospect of her long pupilage.  ’Of course I submit to the burden my father chose to lay upon me, and before long, I hope, I shall be able to take things in a better spirit.  All I ask of you, dear Mr. Barmby, is to have forbearance with me until I get back my health and feel more cheerful.  You know that I could not be in better hands whilst Mary is with me.  I shall write frequently, and give you an account of myself.  Let me hear sometimes, and show me that you make allowance for my very trying position.’

Jessica heard the letter discussed by its recipient and his family.  Samuel spoke with his wonted magnanimity; his father took a liberal view of the matter.  And in writing to her friend a few days later, Jessica was able to say:  ’I think you may safely stay at Falmouth for the whole winter.  You will not be interfered with if you write nicely.  I shouldn’t wonder if they would let you keep out of their reach as long as it is necessary.’

The week of Jessica’s ordeal was now at hand.  She had had another fainting-fit; her sleep was broken every night with hideous dreams; she ate scarce enough to keep herself alive; a perpetual fever parched her throat and burned at her temples.