XXXVIII.
PHILIP'S CONFESSION.
It was evident that something must be done speedily to save Phillida from a decline that might end in death, or from that chronic invalidism which is almost worse. All sort of places were thought of, but the destination was at last narrowed down to the vicinity of Hampton Roads, as the utmost limit that any prudent expenditure would allow the Callenders to venture upon. Even this would cost what ordinary caution forbade them to spend, and Phillida held out stoutly against any trip until the solicitude of her mother and sister bore down all objections.
Not long after Dr. Gunstone's visit, Mrs. Callender received a letter from Mrs. Hilbrough expressing anxiety regarding Phillida, and regretting that her husband's horror of diphtheria still prevented her from calling. She continued:
"I very much wish to do something by which I can show my love for Phillida. Won't you let me bear the expense of a trip southward, if you think that will do good? If you feel delicate about it, consider it a loan to be paid whenever it shall be convenient, but it would give me great happiness if I might be allowed to do this little act of affection."
Mrs. Callender showed the note to Phillida. "It would save our selling the bonds," she said, "but I do not like to go in debt, and of course we would repay it by degrees."
"It is a trifle to her," said Phillida, "and I think we might accept two hundred dollars or more as a loan to be repaid."
"Well, if you think so, Phillida, but I do hate to be in debt."
Phillida sat thinking for a minute. Then her pale face colored.
"Did the letter come by mail?" she asked.
Mrs. Callender examined the envelope. "I thought it came from the postman, but there is no postmark; Sarah brought it to me."