"That is exactly my feeling, but I couldn't express it. Yet what is the use of talking?" she asked, with a profound sigh; "the question is settled, and there the matter rests."
CHAPTER IV.
"From the light ills of infant age.
Up to the plague's destructive rage,
Pains come and go at thy command,
True to the sceptre of thy hand." East.
Thursday, June 11th.
When the Doctor left for his morning duties, he said, "Please bear in mind, Cora, that you have engaged yourself to me for the afternoon."