Five minutes afterwards Dr. Lascelles left the room, Lady Hatfield still remaining buried in a deep slumber.
His countenance expressed surprise mingled with sorrow; and, cold—phlegmatic though his disposition was, he could not help murmuring to himself, "Is it possible?"
Having just looked into the drawing-room, to take leave of Miss Mordaunt, and state that his patient was progressing as favourably as could be expected, Dr. Lascelles returned home.
Lord Ellingham was waiting for him; and this interview the physician now dreaded.
"Are your tidings favourable, doctor?" was the nobleman's hasty and anxious inquiry.
"I regret, my dear Earl," answered Lascelles, "that I should have encouraged hopes——"
"Which are doomed to experience disappointment," added Arthur bitterly. "Oh! I might have anticipated this—unfortunate being that I am! But how have you ascertained that your ideas of this morning are unfounded? How have you convinced yourself that Georgiana is not a prey to those mental eccentricities which your skill might reach? Has she revealed to you her motive for refusing—for rejecting me,—me whom she professes to love?"
"She has revealed nothing, my lord," replied the doctor solemnly. "But I have satisfied myself that monomania and Lady Hatfield are total strangers to each other."
"Then must I abandon all hope!" exclaimed the Earl; "for it is evident that I am the victim of a ridiculous caprice. And yet," he added, a sudden thought striking him, "I will see her once again. She is ill—she is suffering—perhaps she will be pleased to behold me—and who knows——"