'He is at the house in Seamore-place,' said Uffington. 'He was in an unsettled, unhealthy state when he arrived there a few days ago from Paris, where, for the last few weeks, he had been leading a hard life and drinking to excess. Yesterday I chanced to call upon some business, and found that during the night he had been attacked with typhus fever. His recent career has been anything but favourable to him under the circumstances, and the truth is that he is lying in a very dangerous state.'
'Good Heavens, how dreadful' said May. 'Is he properly cared for?'
'Yes,' said Uffington. 'I inquired into that. His servant Stephens, who remained with him in all his various fortunes, sent off at once for Dr. Whitaker, who, as you know, had attended Forestfield once or twice before. Whitaker fortunately was in town, and came at once. Stephens told me that he shook his head when he saw the patient, and, knowing the confidential position which Stephens occupied, told him that he thought very badly of the case. And now, dear Lady Forestfield, I am coming to what more immediately concerns you. From something Stephens told me, I sent up for the nurse in attendance, and had a little conversation with her. Afterwards I made a point of seeing Dr. Whitaker, and from each of them I learned that both during the time of delirium and in his saner moments Forestfield has made frequent reference to you.'
'To me?' cried May, trembling from head to foot; 'to me?'
'To you,' said Uffington; 'speaking of you as his wife, calling on you by your Christian name, and declaring that you are "his after all."
'O, thank God! thank God!' cried May, burying her face in her hands and bursting into tears. 'I knew the time would come when he would say that of me.'
'Do not excite yourself, for you will have need of your strength,' said Uffington. 'The question is now, what do you think it right to do?'
'What do I think it right to do?' repeated May, raising her head. 'Can there be any question about it? Before you told me that he had mentioned my name and spoken of me in that manner, I hesitated, simply because I was afraid that my presence might irritate him and make him worse; but now that I have heard what you said, I have no longer any reason for indecision. Will you take me to Seamore-place at once?'
'I imagined that your good heart would prompt that determination,' said Uffington; 'but, dear Lady Forestfield, it is my duty to lay the case before you in all its bareness, and you must remember that if you go to Seamore-place, and install yourself as Forestfield's nurse, as is no doubt your intention, you run the greatest risk of catching the fever.'
'I should be but little worth if I allowed such a consideration to weigh with me for an instant,' said May, with a sad smile. 'My life has not been so full of happiness that I need be particularly careful of it, and there can be no doubt that my place at such a time is by my husband's side. Will you take me with you back to town?'