"Be so kind as to send for him; I fear this child is ill."
She looked mistrustful, but complied with the request, and in about ten minutes returned with a sleek little man in black, who bowed himself into the room, peeped at my tongue, held my wrist delicately suspended between his thumb and forefinger, then for the space of a minute looked intently at the ceiling, with his right eye firmly shut, and his tongue shrewdly screwed in the left corner of his mouth. At length he dropped my hand, opened his eye, put in his tongue, and gravely said:
"The young lady is only a little feverish."
"You are quite sure it is nothing worse?" observed Cornelius, seeming much relieved.
"Quite sure," decisively replied Mr. Wood; "but concerning the young lady—not your daughter, Sir?"
"No!" was the indignant answer.
"Concerning this young lady," placidly resumed Mr. Wood, "I wish to observe that she is of an excitable temperament, requiring—Not your sister?" he added, again breaking off into an inquiry.
"No, Sir," impatiently replied Cornelius.
"Of an excitable temperament, requiring gentle exercise, indulgence, little study, and none of those violent emotions," (here he held up his forefinger in solemn warning,) "none of those violent emotions which sap the springs of life in the youthful being. Not your ward?" he observed, with another negative inquiry.
"No!—Yes!" hesitatingly said Cornelius.