Meanwhile Aunt Sophia had read the letter. It was very brief, containing merely these words: “I am very ill. I do not feel confidence in my medical man. Pray, come and see me.—Anna Martlett.”
“Had we not better go over at once?” said Lady Scarlett eagerly; and the tears rose in her eyes.—“You will come, aunt?”
“Yes, of course, if it is necessary,” said Aunt Sophia. “But had we not better wait till the doctor returns?”
Kate Scarlett looked up at her husband, who nodded. “Yes,” he said; “I think aunt is right.”
So they waited.
Volume Two—Chapter Fifteen.
Ditto, and—.
“This doesn’t look professional,” said the doctor to himself.—“Go a little more steadily, my man,” he said aloud to the groom; and consequently the horse was checked into a decent trot. For John Scales wanted to grow calm, and quiet down the feeling of agony that had come upon him.