“I am glad you are come, dear Chetwynd,” said Mildred. “I was afraid I might not behold you again.”
“I would have come before, had I thought you desired to see me, dearest sister,” he replied. “But how do you feel?”
“Somewhat better,” she replied. “Mr. Massey's consolatory words have done me as much good as the medicines I have taken—more, perhaps! Doctor Spencer tells me I shall recover, and I have great faith in him.”
“Trust only in Heaven, dear daughter,” observed Mr. Massey, who did not wish her to delude herself.
“I hope I am now prepared,” she said, in a tone of perfect resignation. “I shall quit this world without regret.”
“A frame of mind attained by few—but the best,” said the chaplain.
Here Emmeline could not restrain her tears, and Rose sobbed audibly.
“I will retire for awhile, dear daughter,” said the good chaplain, rising. “You may have something to say to your brother.”
And he moved to a little distance with Rose.
“What would you with me, dearest sister?” asked Chetwynd, “Any injunctions you may give me shall be strictly fulfilled.”