CHAPTER XVIII.
For a moment even the stout-hearted Rector was appalled. But Enid, although she was watching him intently, could not read anything but unfaltering sympathy and ready cheer in the glance that he gave her and the words that rose almost immediately to his tongue.
"Courage! Doctors are very often wrong," he said. "Besides, I do not see why such an ending should be feared, even if there were any constitutional tendency of the kind in your family, which there is not."
"No," said Enid, less timidly than before; "I believe there is not. I have asked."
"Your attacks are only nervous, my dear Miss Vane. The very fact of your having—foolishly, I think—been, told the doctor's theories has made it less possible for you to strive against the malady; and yet you say that it has not made progress lately. You have not been ill in this way for six months?"
"No, not for six months."
"Don't you see that the excitement and fatigue of to-day's expedition, and the sad scene which we have just witnessed, would be likely to increase any ailment of the nervous system? You must not argue anything from what has happened to-day. Forgive me," the Rector broke off to say, with a smile—"I am talking like a doctor to you, and my medical skill is small indeed. It is only large enough to enable me to assure you, Miss Vane, of my conviction that your fears are ungrounded, and that you are tormenting yourself to no purpose. Will you try to take my advice and turn your thoughts away from this unhappy subject?"
"I will try," answered Enid, with rather a bewildered look. "But," she added a moment later, "I thought that I ought to be always on my guard; and one cannot be on one's guard without thinking about the matter."
"Who told you that you ought to be always on your guard?"
"Flossy—I mean Mrs. Vane. She is very kind, and watches me constantly. Oh, I forgot," said the girl, starting to her feet, and clasping her hands before her with a look of wretched nervous terror which went to the Rector's heart—"I forgot—I forgot——"