The young wife he loved with such passionate worship was in
the hour of need, and he could render no assistance.
Later on a strange hush had fallen over the doctor's house. It was past
1 in the morning; the sky was overcast; the wind was moaning fitfully,
as though a storm was brewing in the autumn air. The dew lay thick and
heavy on the ground. Inside the house was the strange hush that
dangerous sickness always brings with it. The doctor had in haste
summoned the best nurse in Castledene, Hannah Furney, who shook her head
gravely when she saw the beautiful pale face. An hour passed, and again
Dr. Letsom sought his distinguished guest.
"I am sorry not to bring better news," he said. "Lady--Mrs
Charlewood--is not so well as I had hoped she would be. Dr. Evans is
considered very clever. I should like further advice. Shall I send for
him?"
The sudden flash of agony that came into Lord Charlewood's face was a
revelation to Dr. Letsom; he laid his hand with a gentle touch on the
stranger's arm.
"Do not fear the worst," he said. "She is in the hands of Heaven. I am
taking only ordinary precautions.
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