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the French physician was departing； he told Guy that he would not fail
to come the next night； as he saw every reason to expect a crisis。 Guy
sat intently marking every alteration in the worn； flushed； suffering
face that rested helplessly on the pillows； and every unconscious
movement of the wasted； nerveless limbs stretched out in pain and
helplessness； contrasting his present state with what he was when last
they parted； in the full pride of health； vigour； and intellect。 He
dwelt on all that had passed between them from the first； the strange
ancestral enmity that nothing had as yet overcome； the
misunderstandings； the prejudices； the character whose faultlessness he
had always revered； and the repeated failure of all attempts to be
friends； as if his own impatience and passion had borne fruit in the
merited distrust of the man whom of all others he respected； and whom
he would fain love as a brother。 He earnestly hoped that so valuable a
life might be spared； but if that might not be； his fervent wish was；
that at least a few parting words of goodwill and reconciliation might
be granted to be his comfort in remembrance。
So mused Guy during the night； as he watched the heavy doze between
sleep and stupor； and tried to catch the low； indistinct mutterings
that now and then seemed to ask for something。 Towards morning Philip
awoke more fully； and as Guy was feeling his pulse； he faintly asked；
'How many？' while his eyes had more of their usual expression。
'I cannot count；' returned Guy； 'but it is less than in the evening。
Some drink？'
Philip took some； then making an effort to look round； said；'What day
is it？'
'Saturday morning； the 23rd of August。'
'I have been ill a long time！'
'You have indeed； full three weeks； but you are better to…night。'
He was silent for some moments； then； collecting himself； and looking
fixedly at Guy； he said； in his own steady voice； though very feeble；
'I suppose； humanly speaking； it is an even chance between life and
death？'
'Yes；' said Guy； firmly； the low sweet tones of his voice full of
tenderness。 'You are very ill； but not without hope。' Then； after a
pause； during which Philip looked thoughtful； but calm； he added；'I
have tried to bring a clergyman here； but I could not succeed。 Would
you like me to read to you？'
'Thank you…presentlybut I have something to say。 Some more water；
thank you。' Then； after pausing； 'Guy； you have thought I judged you
harshly； I meant to act for the best。'
'Don't think of that；' said Guy； with a rush of joy at hearing the
words of reconciliation he had yearned for so long。
'And now you have been most kind。 If I live； you shall see that I am
sensible of it；' and he feebly moved his hand to his cousin； who
pressed it； hardly less happy than on the day he stood before Mrs。
Edmonstone in the dressing…room。 Presently； Philip went on。 'My
sister has my will。 My love to her； and tototo poor Laura。' His
voice suddenly failed； and while Guy was again moistening his lips； he
gathered strength； and said；'You and Amy will do what you can for
her。 Do not let the blow come suddenly。 Ah！ you do not know。 We have
been engaged this long time。'
Guy did not exclaim； but Philip saw his amazement。 'It was very wrong；
it was not her fault；' he added。 'I can't tell you now； but if I live
all shall be told。 If not； you will be kind to her？'
'Indeed we will。'
'Poor Laura！' again said Philip； in a much weaker voice； and after
lying still a little longer； he faintly whispered；'Read to me。'
Guy read till he fell into a doze； which lasted till Arnaud came in the
morning； and Guy went up to his wife。
'Amy；' said he； entering with a quiet bright look； 'he has spoken to me
according to my wish。'
'Then it is all right；' said Amabel； answering his look with one as
calm and sweet。 'Is he better？'
'Not materially； his pulse is still very high； but there was a gleam of
perfect consciousness； he spoke calmly and clearly； fully understanding
his situation。 Come what will； it is a thing to be infinitely thankful
for！ I am very glad！ Now for our morning reading。'
As soon as it was over； and when Guy had satisfied himself that the
patient was still quiet； they sat down to breakfast。 Guy considered a
little while； and said；
'I have been very much surprised。 Had you any idea of an attachment
between him and Laura？'
'I know she is very fond of him； and she has always been his favourite。
What？ Has he been in love with her all this time； poor fellow？'
'He says they are engaged。'
'Laura？ Our sister！ Oh； Guy； impossible！ He must have been
wandering。'
'I could have almost thought so； but his whole manner forbade me to
think there was any delusion。 He was too weak to explain； but he said
it was not her fault； and was overcome when speaking of her。 He begged
us to spare her from suddenly hearing of his death。 He was as calm and
reasonable as I am at this moment。 No； Amy； it was not delirium。'
'I don't know how to believe it！' said Amabel。 'It is so impossible
for Laura； and for him too。 Don't you know how； sometimes in fevers；
people take a delusion； and are quite rational about everything else；
and that； too； if only it was true； and don't you think it very likely；
that if he really has been in love with her all this time； （how much he
must have gone through！） he may fancy he has been secretly engaged； and
reproach himself？'
'I cannot tell；' said Guy； 'there was a reality in his manner of
speaking that refuses to let me disbelieve him。 Surely it cannot be
one of the horrors of death that we should be left to reproach
ourselves with the fancied sins we have been prone to； as well as with
our real ones。 Then'and he rose； and walked about the room'if so；
more than ever； in the hour of death； good Lord； deliver us！'
Amabel was silent； and presently he sat down； saying；'Well； time will
show！'
'I cannot think it' said Amy。 'Laura！ How could she help telling
mamma！' And as Guy smiled at the recollection of their own simultaneous
coming to mamma； she added；'Not only because it was right； but for
the comfort of it。'
'But； Amy； do you remember what I told you of poor Laura's fears； and
what she said to me； on our wedding…day？'
'Poor Laura！' said Amy。 'Yet' She paused； and Guy presently said；
'Well； I won't believe it； if I can possibly help it。 I can't afford
to lose my faith in my sister's perfection； or Philip's； especially
now。 But I must go； I have loitered too long； and Arnaud ought to go
to his breakfast。'
Amabel sat long over the remains of her breakfast。 She did not puzzle
herself over Philip's confession； for she would not admit it without
confirmation； and she could not think of his misdoings； even those of
which she was certain； on the day when his life was hanging in the
balance。 All she could bear to recollect was his excellence； nay； in
the tenderness of her heart； she nearly made out that she had always
been very fond of him； overlooking that even before Guy came to
Hollywell； she had always regarded him with more awe than liking； been
disinclined to his good advice； shrunk from his condescension； and
regularly enjoyed Charles's quizzing of him。 All this； and all the
subsequent injuries were forgotten； and she believed； as sincerely as
her husband； that Philip had been free from any unkind intention。 But
she chiefly dwelt on her own Guy； especially that last speech； so
unlike some of whom she had heard； who were rather glad to find a flaw
in a faultless model； if only to obtain a fellow…feeling for it。
'Yes；' thought she； 'he might look far without finding anything better
than himself； though he won't believe it。 If ever he could make me
angry； it will be by treating me as if I was better than he。 Such
nonsense！ But I suppose his goodness would not be such if he was
conscious of it； so I must be content with him as he is。 I can't be so
unwifelike after all； for I am sure nothing makes me feel so small and
foolish as that humility of his！ Come； I must see about some dinner
for the French doctor。'
She set to work on her housewifery cares； but when these were
despatched； it was hard to begin anything else on such a day of
suspense； when she was living on reports from the sick room。 The
delirium had returned； more violent than ever； and as she sat at her
open window she often heard the disconnected words。 She could do
nothing but listenshe could neither read nor draw； and even letter…
writing failed her to…day； for it seemed cruel to send a letter to his
sister； and if Philip was not under a delusion； it was still worse to
write to Hollywell； it made her shudder to think of the misery she
might have inflicted