'I doubt she is dying,' said the afflicted father.
'Heaven forbid!' exclaimed Mrs Mowbray, throwing her shawl over her shoulders; 'I will go and see her myself.'
'What, really?—But the way is so long, and the road is so miry?'
'No matter—I must do my duty.'
'God bless you, and reward you!' cried the grateful father—'that is so like you! Lucy said you would come!'
Mrs Mowbray then filled a basket with medicine and refreshments, and set out on her charitable visit.
She found the poor girl in a very weak and alarming state; but the sight of her benefactress, and the tender manner in which she supported her languid head, and administered wine and other cordials to her, insensibly revived her; and while writhing under the feelings of an unhappy parent herself, Mrs Mowbray was soothed by the blessings of the parent whom she comforted.
At this moment they were alarmed by a shriek from a neighbouring cottage, and a woman who was attending on the sick girl ran out to inquire into the cause of it.
She returned, saying that a poor sick young gentlewoman, who lodged at the next house, was fallen back in a fit, and they thought she was dead.
'A young gentlewoman,' exclaimed Mrs Mowbray, 'at the next cottage!' rising up.