Thine image so can none displace,
But soar with me through yonder skies.
Helen Marion Burnside
“But they were not out of the wood yet,” as Mrs. Heron observed to Ellerton.
When, he had reached a certain point Sir Hugh failed to make any further progress.
The London physician, Dr. Conway, frankly owned that Sir Hugh’s case completely baffled his medical skill and experience.
Just when they had least expected it the fever had abated, and he had begun to amend, and now he as steadily refused to get well.
Day after day he lay in an extremity of weakness that was pitiable to witness; and ever, as time went on, seemed sinking slowly from sheer inanition and exhaustion. After all there must be some strange mischief at work, he said; but Dr. Martin was of a different opinion.
He had seen enough of his patient by this time to be sure that there was sickness of heart as well as of brain, and that it needed some other healing power than theirs before the man could throw off the load of oppression that was retarding his recovery and, gathering up his wasted energies, take up his life again.