“Don't make yourself cough, dear; lie down and keep your shawl round you. If I 'd thought you were so feverish, I 'd not have come over to torment you,—good-bye;” and, resisting all Bella's entreaties and prayers, Beck arose and left the room.
CHAPTER XXVI. BESIDE THE HEARTH
As Tony sat at tea with his mother, Janet rushed in to say that Dr. Stewart had just come home with his daughter, and that she seemed very weak and ill,—“daunie-like,” as Janet said, “and naething like the braw lassie that left this twa years ago. They had to help her out o' the stage; and if it hadna been that Mrs. Harley had gi'en her a glass o' gooseberry wine, she wad hae fainted.” Janet saw it all, for she had gone into Coleraine, and the doctor gave her a seat back with himself and his daughter.
“Poor girl! And is she much changed?” asked Mrs. Butler.
“She's no that changed that I wudna know her,” said Janet, “and that's all. She has no color in her cheeks nor mirth in her een; and instead of her merry laugh, that set everybody off, she's just got a little faint smile that's mair sad than onything else.”
“Of course she's weak; she's had a bad fever, and she's now come off a long journey,” said Tony, in a sort of rough discontented voice.
“Ay,” muttered Janet; “but I doubt she 'll never be the same she was.”
“To be sure you do,” broke in Tony, rudely. “You would n't belong to your county here if you did n't look at the blackest side of everything. This end of our island is as cheerful in its population as it is in scenery; and whenever we have n't a death in a cabin, we stroll out to see if there's no sign of a shipwreck on the coast.”
“No such a thing, Master Tony. He that made us made us like ither folk; and we 're no worse or better than our neighbors.”