"And has Doctor Rowland written for Charles such a dreadful letter, so dreadfully unkind a letter, that it takes your breath and your senses away? Come over here to me, my little girl, and tell me all about it."
"It is not unkind, aunt; it's worse. It is dreadful."
"Now, now, Marion, you must not allow yourself to be carried away by every little thing connected with Charlie. Is he worse?"
"No. He's going on well, the doctor says."
"Well, then, child, come over to me and bring all those papers with you; and first of all read out what the doctor says."
With the look of one overwhelmed with sorrow, May crossed the room, carrying the papers in one hand down by her side, and in the other, holding against her brown-red cheek, a tress of her dark hair, which had escaped the fastening behind her head.
She sat down in her low easy-chair behind her aunt, and, having placed the more voluminous documents on the ground beside her, rested one elbow on an elbow of the chair, and began reading out in a doleful voice:
"Dear Madam,
"I am still in medical attendance on both the Duke of Shropshire and Mr. Cheyne, and I have to report with sorrow that the condition of his grace causes the gravest anxiety. Additional medical assistance has been summoned since the hasty note I wrote you a few days ago; but the universal opinion of the medical men is that his grace is not likely to last many days. An old acquaintance and I take the watching in turns.
"With regard to Mr. Cheyne, I am happy to be able to report that he is going on better than we had anticipated. All signs of fever have left him, and he has now only to pull up strength to be no worse than when he first came to this neighbourhood. You may rest quite assured he shall want nothing that can be got or done for him here. He has communicated to me the understanding which exists between you and him, and has desired me to write as much as I please of my own will, and then asked me to take the rest from his dictation. So far I have written from myself. Before I begin taking down his words I may tell you that I am one of the crustiest of old bachelor doctors; but the story which Mr. Cheyne has to tell you is of so romantic a character that I cannot avoid feeling an interest in it, and that if there is anything I can do in the matter for you I shall be most happy to act.