"If Uncle Richard were but alive! He could cure me."
"Don't, Caroline, don't distress yourself. There are doctors as clever as papa was."
"I kept thinking"--she turned her colourless face to Sara as she spoke--"I kept thinking at Honfleur of Uncle Richard; that if the old days could come back again, and I were at home with him at Hallingham in the old house as it used to be, I should be well soon. The thought kept haunting me. And, Sara, I am sure if my uncle were alive he could cure me. I shall never believe otherwise."
She paused. Sara knew not what reply to make. Miss Davenal did not catch the words, and Oswald leaned on the back of a chair in silence, only looking at her as she lay.
"Why should this conviction have haunted me? Uncle Richard was gone. Mark kept dinning in my ears that there were other doctors as good as Dr. Davenal, and at last I grew to think so too, because they were English. So I came over; I should have had a fever or died if I had not come; and now I see how foolish the hope was, for they can't cure me. Nobody could do it but Uncle Richard."
Miss Bettina had been bending her ear close to the invalid, and caught the sense of the words. "Why do you think nobody can cure you?"
"I feel that they can't. No: Uncle Richard's gone, and there's no chance for me."
They got her ready, Oswald helped her down to the carriage, and she was conveyed home. The only home she would henceforth know in this world. Dorcas stood in the passage, and looked on askance as she entered the house. That the blooming young bride whom she had received into the Abbey at Hallingham little more than two short years before!
Sara gave up her room to her as the most commodious one in the house, herself taking the chamber at the back of it, which had been occasionally occupied by Dick and Leo. Caroline looked round the room as she lay in bed, a curious, inquiring sort of gaze in her eyes.
"Have I been in this room before?" she suddenly asked.