Lilly rode home much happier. She could not have much of what might properly be called affection for her cousin, for his behaviour had prevented that, but she sincerely pitied him, and was anxious for his welfare.
Day after day passed by. “I will tell you to-morrow what to hope,” answered Dr Morison to her usual inquiries. Lilly cantered home more anxious than ever to make her report to her aunt.
“Of course he will die,” observed Mrs Clavering; “what have we to expect?”
“God is ever merciful and good,” said Lilly, calmly.
The lady stared. “I shall not believe that he will live till I see him recovered,” she answered.
“We can pray that he may, dear aunt, at all events,” replied Lilly.
The next day Lilly rode off at an early hour to Dame Harvey’s cottage. Dr Morison arrived nearly at the same moment. She waited anxiously for his report. He remained, it seemed, a very long time with his patient. At last he appeared with a smile on his countenance. “He will yet do well. He requires careful nursing more than anything else, and I hope that in a few days he will be strong enough to be removed to the Hall.” Lilly rode back to carry the joyful news to her aunt.
Mr Clavering, when he heard this opinion, poured out expressions of gratitude to the doctor, and called him the preserver of his son’s life, assuring him that there was nothing he would not do to show his sense of the obligation.
“Give thanks where they are due,” said Dr Morison. “And, my dear sir, you cannot please me more than by endeavouring to correct his faults, and to bring him up in the way he should go.”
“A very odd man, that doctor,” said Mr Clavering, to himself. “Under other circumstances I should think his remarks highly impertinent.”