Another week made a rapid change upon her for the worse, and it was considered necessary to send for Dr. M’Cormick, as from her feebleness and depression they feared that her dissolution was by no means distant, especially as she had for the last three days been confined to her bed. The moment he saw her, his opinion confirmed their suspicions.
“Deal gently with her now,” said he; “a fit or a paroxysm of any kind would be fatal to her. The dear girl’s unhappy race is run—her sands are all but numbered. This moment her thread of life is not stronger than a gossamer.” Ere his departure on that occasion, he brought Mr. Sinclair aside and thus addressed him:
“Are you aware, sir, that Mr. Osborne’s son has returned.”
“Not that he has actually returned,” replied Mr. Sinclair, “but I know that he is daily expected.”
“He reached his father’s house,” continued the doctor, “early yesterday; and such a pitiable instance of remorse as he is I have never seen, and I hope never shall. His cry is to see your daughter, that he may hear his forgiveness from her own lips. He says he cannot die in hope or in happiness, unless she pardons him. This, however, must not be—I mean an interview between them—for it would most assuredly prove fatal to himself; and should she see him only for a moment, that moment were her last.”
“I will visit the unhappy young man myself,” said her father; “as for an interview it cannot be thought of—even if they could bear it, Charles forgets that he is the husband of another woman, and that, consequently, Jane is nothing to him—and that such a meeting would be highly—grossly improper.”
“Your motives, though perfectly just, are different from mine,” said the doctor—“I speak merely as a medical man. He wants not this to hurry him into the grave—he will be there soon enough.”
“Let him feel repentance towards God,” said the old man heavily—“towards my child it is now unavailing. It is my duty, as it shall be my endeavor, to fix this principle in his heart.”
The Doctor then departed, having promised to see Jane on the next day but one. This gentleman’s opinion, however, with respect to his beautiful patient, was not literally correct; still, although she lingered longer than could naturally be anticipated from her excessive weakness, yet he was right in saying that her thread of life resembled, that of the gossamer.
In the course of the same evening, she gave the first symptom of a lucid interval; still in point of fact her mind was never wholly restored to sanity. She had slept long and soundly, and after awaking rang the bell for some one to come to her. This was unusual, and in a moment she was attended by Agnes and her mother.