‘Can you let us hope that this whole affair came from an affection of the brain?’
‘The elopement! No; I can’t flatter you that health or sanity were in fault there. Nor is it delirium now; the rambling is only in sleep. But the three days’ fast—’
‘Two days, was it not?’
‘Three. She took nothing since breakfast on Thursday.’
‘Have you made out how she passed the last two days?’
‘I wrung out some account. I believe this would never have occurred to her if her brother had given her a sandwich at Paddington; but she came home exhausted into a distaste for food, which other feelings exaggerated into a fancy to die rather than face the family. She burnt the provisions in a rage at their being forced on her, and she slept most of the time—torpor without acute suffering. Last night in sleep she lost her hold of her resolution, and woke to the sense of self-preservation.’
‘An infinite mercy!’
‘Not that the spirit is broken; all her strength goes to sullenness, and I never saw a case needing greater judgment. Now that she is reduced, the previous overwork tells on her, and it will be a critical matter to bring her round. Who can be of use here? Not the married sisters, I suppose? Miss Fulmort is all that a girl can be at nineteen or twenty, but she wants age.’
‘You think it will be a bad illness?’
‘It may not assume an acute form, but it may last a good while; and if they wish her to have any health again, they must mind what they are about.’