Doctor Remy seemed to take pity on her perplexity. "Listen, dear," said he, "and you will soon understand. Your mother consulted me professionally, a fortnight since."
Astra's cheek grew white with sudden fear. "What is it?" she gasped.
"There is no immediate danger," said the doctor, "and may not be, for years, with due precautions. But there is a tendency to heart disease; and it is imperative, just now, that she should not be agitated. And this, Astra, is the reason why she must not hear of our engagement, for some time to come."
Astra looked down thoughtfully. "I think you are mistaken," said she. "I believe it would be a relief to her to know that my future is in such good hands."
"Doubtless, that would be the ultimate effect," replied Doctor Remy; "but there would be emotional excitement, at first, more than is good for her;—so much that I, as a physician, am bound to forbid it."
Astra could not but admit that the prohibition was just. Mrs. Lyte had seemed very fragile and feeble, of late. Astra had urged that application to Doctor Remy which, it now appeared, her mother had made, but in regard to the results of which she had chosen to keep silence,—from a loving wish, probably, to save her daughter from unavailing anxiety. Astra's heart swelled at the thought.
"Are you sure," she asked, "that there is no immediate danger?"
"As sure as one can be, in such cases—if she is kept quiet."
"And is there any probability that the disease may be eventually cured?"
"There is a possibility,—with the same indispensable condition."