One day Luiza fainted away suddenly, without any apparent cause, and when she returned to consciousness she was very weak, with a high pulse and sunken eyes. Jorge went at once for Julião; he found him greatly excited, for the examinations were to take place on the following day, and he began to feel nervous. On the way he spoke, without pausing, of his thesis, of the shamelessness of giving appointments through favor, of the scandal he would make if they treated him unjustly, and of his regret at not having inserted more wedges.
He examined Luiza, and said to Jorge in a vexed tone,—
“There is nothing the matter with her; and you call me for this? She has anæmia; we all have it. Let her go out; let her amuse herself,—amusement and iron; a great deal of iron. Ah, and cold water on the spinal column.”
As it was already five o’clock, he invited himself to dine, abusing the country for the rest of the evening, cursing the science of medicine, insulting his opponent, and smoking Jorge’s cigars with desperation.
Luiza took the iron, but she refused to amuse herself; it tired her to dress, and she hated to go to the theatre. Then, when she saw that Jorge was really uneasy about her condition, she tried to affect energy, gayety, good-humor; but the effort depressed her profoundly.
“Shall we go to the country?” said Jorge to her in despair, seeing that she was growing worse.
Fearing possible complications, she refused. She said she did not feel strong enough. Where could she be better than in her own house? And then the expense—the trouble.
One morning when Jorge returned home unexpectedly he found her in a wrapper, a handkerchief tied around her head, and sweeping, with a dejected countenance.
He stood still at the door in amazement.
“What are you doing?” he said. “Are you sweeping?”