There must be no repetition of this scene.  She most ward off similar mishaps by whatever measures she could force or cajole her conscience into adopting.  Rosa’s state was more precarious than her account had led her friend to believe, or than the nurse’s experienced eye had seen at their meeting.  The main hope of her recovery was in the warmer climate and assiduous attendance.  Above all, she should not be allowed to exhaust herself by talking, or hysterical paroxysms.  She had no more self-control than a child, and she must be treated as such.  Mrs. Sutton’s jesuitical resolve was to humor her by every imaginable device, even to feigned friendship for Frederic Chilton.

Fortified by this resolution, she heard, without any show of pride or trepidation, the clatter of horses’ hoofs in the yard; the sound of voices below stairs, as Mr. Chilton ushered the physician into the parlor, and the light, careful tread with which he mounted to his wife’s apartment.  His momentary pause at the entrance, and surprised look at beholding the other tenant of the chamber, were the best passport to her indulgence he could have desired.  It was clear to her instantly that poor Rosa’s passion for manoeuvring had survived the wreck of health and prostration of spirits.  She had never chosen the straight path if she could find a crooked or a by-road, and her project for obtaining Mrs. Sutton’s services and company had been put into execution, without consultation with her husband.  However reprehensible this might be in the abstract, it was not in the kind old soul to betray her, as she advanced, placidly and civilly, to reassure the startled man.

“How are you, Mr. Chilton?  You hardly expected to meet me here, I suppose?  But I am a near neighbor of Mrs. Tazewell now, and hearing that Rosa was sick, I came over to see if I could do anything for her, knowing how infirm her mother is.”

“You are very kind!” He grasped her hand more tightly than he intended, or was conscious of.  “We were ignorant ourselves of Mrs. Tazewell’s true condition.  Mrs. Chilton’s sisters have forwarded more encouraging reports to her of her mother’s illness than they would have been warranted in doing by anything except the fear that a faithful account would operate injuriously upon the daughter’s health.  I should have chosen some other home for my wife, had I known the actual state of affairs here.  Change of scene and climate was imperatively demanded.”

He spoke low and rapidly—­hardly above his breath; but the black eyes, unclosing, flashed upon him.

“So you have come back!” said Rosa’s weak voice.  “You stayed away an eternity!”