The distress visible in Adeline's countenance seemed to excite the compassion of the landlady, who now endeavoured to console her in the best manner she was able. She advised her to send for her friends, and offered to procure a messenger. Adeline sighed, and said it was unnecessary. I don't know, Ma'mselle, what you may think necessary, continued the hostess; but I know I should think it very hard to die in a strange place, with no relations near me, and I dare say the poor gentleman thinks so himself; and besides, who is to pay for his funeral if he dies? Adeline begged she would be silent; and desiring that every proper attention might be given, she promised her a reward for her trouble, and requested pen and ink immediately. Ay, to be sure, Ma'mselle, that is the proper way; why your friends would never forgive you if you did not acquaint them; I know it by myself. And as for taking care of him, he shall have every thing the house affords; and I warrant there is never a better inn in the province, though the town is none of the biggest. Adeline was obliged to repeat her request for pen and ink, before the loquacious hostess would quit the room.
The thought of sending for Theodore's friends had, in the tumult of the late scenes, never occurred to her, and she was now somewhat consoled by the prospect of comfort which it opened for him. When the pen and ink were brought, she wrote the following note to Theodore:—
"In your present condition, you have need of every comfort that can be procured you; and surely there is no cordial more valuable in illness than the presence of a friend. Suffer me, therefore, to acquaint your family with your situation: it will be a satisfaction to me, and, I doubt not, a consolation to you."
In a short time after she had sent the note, she received a message from Theodore, entreating most respectfully, but earnestly, to see her for a few minutes. She immediately went to his chamber, and found her worst apprehensions confirmed, by the languor expressed in his countenance; while the shock she received, together with her struggle to disguise her emotions, almost overcame her. I thank you for this goodness, said he, extending his hand, which she received, and sitting down by the bed, burst into a flood of tears. When her agitation had somewhat subsided, and, removing her handkerchief from her eyes, she again looked on Theodore, a smile of the tenderest love expressed his sense of the interest she took in his welfare, and administered a temporary relief to her heart.
Forgive this weakness, said she; my spirits have of late been so variously agitated—Theodore interrupted her: These tears are more flattering to my heart. But for my sake endeavour to support yourself: I doubt not I shall soon be better; the surgeon—
I do not like him, said Adeline; but tell me how you find yourself? He assured her that he was now much easier than he had yet been; and mentioning her kind note, he led to the subject on account of which he had solicited to see her. My family, said he, reside at a great distance from hence, and I well know their affection is such, that, were they informed of my situation, no consideration, however reasonable, could prevent their coming to my assistance: but before they can arrive, their presence will probably be unnecessary (Adeline looked earnestly at him.) I should probably be well, pursued he, smiling, before a letter could reach them; it would, therefore, occasion them unnecessary pain, and moreover a fruitless journey. For your sake, Adeline, I could wish they were here; but a few days will more fully show the consequences of my wound: let us wait at least till then, and be directed by circumstances.
Adeline forbore to press the subject further, and turned to one more immediately interesting. I much wish, said she, that you had a more able surgeon; you know the geography of the province better than I do; are we in the neighbourhood of any town likely to afford you other advice?
I believe not, said he; and this is an affair of little consequence, for my wound is so inconsiderable that a very moderate share of skill may suffice to cure it. But why, my beloved Adeline, do you give way to this anxiety? why suffer yourself to be disturbed by this tendency to forebode the worst? I am willing, perhaps presumptuously so, to attribute it to your kindness; and suffer me to assure you, that while it excites my gratitude, it increases my tenderest esteem. O Adeline! since you wish my speedy recovery, let me see you composed: while I believe you to be unhappy I cannot be well.—She assured him she would endeavour to be at least tranquil; and fearing the conversation, if prolonged, would be prejudicial to him, she left him to repose.
As she turned out of the gallery she met the hostess, upon whom certain words of Adeline had operated as a talisman, transforming neglect and impertinence into officious civility. She came to inquire whether the gentleman above stairs had every thing that he liked, for she was sure it was her endeavour that he should. I have got him a nurse, Ma'mselle, to attend him, and I dare say she will do very well; but I will look to that, for I shall not mind helping him myself sometimes. Poor gentleman! how patiently he bears it! One would not think now that he believes he is going to die; yet the doctor told him so himself, or at least as good. Adeline was extremely shocked at this imprudent conduct of the surgeon, and dismissed the landlady, after ordering a slight dinner.
Towards evening the surgeon again made his appearance; and having passed some time with his patient, returned to the parlour, according to the desire of Adeline, to inform her of his condition. He answered Adeline's inquiries with great solemnity. It is impossible to determine positively at present. Madam, but I have reason to adhere to the opinion I gave you this morning. I am not apt indeed, to form opinions upon uncertain grounds—I will give you a singular instance of this: