“Who is that?” said he; “the new doctor already? It is a strange step.”
“O! Fred, don’t be the fairy Fine Ear, as you used to be when you were at the worst,” said Henrietta.
“But do you know who it is?” said Fred.
“It is Mr. Franklin,” said Henrietta. “You know mamma has only been once at Church since your accident, and then there was no Holy Communion. So you must not fancy she is worse, Fred.”
“I wish we were confirmed,” said Fred, sighing, and presently adding, “My Prayer-Book, if you please, Henrietta.”
“You will only make your head worse, with trying to read the small print,” said she; “I will read anything you want to you.”
He chose nevertheless to have it himself, and when he next spoke, it was to say, “I wish, when Mr. Franklin leaves her, you would ask him to come to me.”
Henrietta did not like the proposal at all, and said all she could against it; but Fred persisted, and made her at last undertake to ask Aunt Geoffrey’s consent. Even then she would have done her best to miss the opportunity; but Fred heard the first sounds, and she was obliged to fetch Mr. Franklin. The conference was not long, and she found no reason to regret that it had taken place; for Fred did not seem so much oppressed and weighted down when she again returned to him.
The physician who had been sent for arrived. He had seen Mrs. Frederick Langford some years before, and well understood her case, and his opinion was now exactly what Fred had been prepared by his uncle to expect. It was impossible to conjecture how long she might yet survive: another attack might come at any moment, and be the last. It might be deferred for weeks or months, or even now it was possible that she might rally, and return to her usual state of health.
It was on this possibility, or as she chose to hear the word, probability, that Henrietta fixed her whole mind. The rest was to her as if unsaid; she would not hear nor believe it, and shunned anything that brought the least impression of the kind. The only occasion when she would avow her fears even to herself, was when she knelt in prayer; and then how wild and unsubmissive were her petitions! How embittered and wretched she would feel at her own powerlessness! Then the next minute she would drive off her fears as by force; call up a vision of a brightly smiling future; think, speak, and act as if hiding her eyes would prevent the approach of the enemy she dreaded.