It was a deep swoon. The doctor, who was called by Jan, remained until late in the night, seemingly very anxious. "Brain fever is threatening," he said, when leaving. "I am afraid the case will be a serious one."
He was mistaken, for when he came the following day he found his patient out of bed. She had aged suddenly, and looked like a shadow, and it shocked him greatly to see silver threads among her auburn tresses.
"My dear madam, I do not know what has happened, but I hope you will remember you are a mother."
"I assure you I will not forget it," and she thanked him for his sympathy. He left her with a quiet mind.
Hamia was relieved, too, when she heard her mistress talking as sensibly and reasonably as ever. Only Jan was suspicious. He feared it would not end well, and prayed all day long that God would preserve the balance of her mind. His anxiety was still greater when she sent for him in the evening, and said: "You were about to sacrifice your savings for me. Since you love me that much, will you lend them to me if I ask you?"
"With the greatest pleasure; but there is still a good sum in the safe."
"Still, I ask them from you. I will certainly repay you."
He took the money to her, but said sorrowfully to Hamia: "Now I am sure she is not right in her mind."
He was to discover the next morning that she was perfectly sane.