"Yes, my lady."
"And at night when you are asleep, who attends upon her?"
"I am a very light sleeper, ma'am. I mostly hears her when she calls me, if she calls loud enough."
"She must have two nurses. I will get another woman to help you, and I shall come every day to see that she is attended properly. Pray, who is her doctor?"
The woman named a humble apothecary in Lambeth, called Morton, whom Antonia had often met in her visits to the poor, a meek elderly man in whose skill and kindness she had confidence, in spite of his rusty coat and breeches, coarse cotton stockings and grubby hands.
"I will send a physician to see her. Tell Mr. Morton that I shall send Dr. Heberden, who will confer with him. Do you know if Mrs. Stobart has had any trouble on her mind lately, any anxiety?"
"Only about her house, my lady. Her slut of a maid ran away directly she heard 'twas small-pox."
The apothecary came in while Antonia was standing by the bed, and was aghast at the spectacle.
"Does your ladyship know what risk you run here? Oh, madam, for God's sake, leave this infected air."
"I am not afraid. I did not take the disease when the doctors tried to inoculate me. I doubt I am proof against the poison."