With all this care it seemed strange the sick girl did not get well; yet such was the case. She wasted like any snow-wreath in thaw; she faded like any flower in drought. Miss Keeldar, on whose thoughts danger or death seldom intruded, had at first entertained no fears at all for her friend; but seeing her change and sink from time to time when she paid her visits, alarm clutched her heart. She went to Mr. Helstone and expressed herself with so much energy that that gentleman was at last obliged, however unwillingly, to admit the idea that his niece was ill of something more than a migraine; and when Mrs. Pryor came and quietly demanded a physician, he said she might send for two if she liked. One came, but that one was an oracle. He delivered a dark saying of which the future was to solve the mystery, wrote some prescriptions, gave some directions--the whole with an air of crushing authority--pocketed his fee, and went. Probably he knew well enough he could do no good, but didn't like to say so.
Still, no rumour of serious illness got wind in the neighbourhood. At Hollow's Cottage it was thought that Caroline had only a severe cold, she having written a note to Hortense to that effect; and mademoiselle contented herself with sending two pots of currant jam, a recipe for a tisane, and a note of advice.
Mrs. Yorke being told that a physician had been summoned, sneered at the hypochondriac fancies of the rich and idle, who, she said, having nothing but themselves to think about, must needs send for a doctor if only so much as their little finger ached.

With all this care it seemed strange the sick girl did not get well; yet such was the case. She faded like a flower in drought. Miss Keeldar, on whose thoughts danger or death seldom intruded, at first had no fears for her friend; but seeing her change and sink, alarm clutched her heart. She went to Mr. Helstone and expressed herself with so much energy that he was obliged, however unwillingly, to admit the idea that his niece was ill with something more than a migraine; and when Mrs. Pryor came and quietly demanded a doctor, he said she might send for two if she liked.
One came; he said darkly that the future would solve the mystery, wrote some prescriptions, gave some directions - all with an air of crushing authority - pocketed his fee, and went. Probably he knew well enough he could do no good, but did not like to say so.
Still, no rumour of serious illness travelled through the neighbourhood. At Hollow's Cottage it was thought that Caroline had only a severe cold, she having written a note to Hortense to that effect. Mrs. Yorke, on being told that a doctor had been summoned, sneered at the hypochondriac fancies of the rich and idle, who, she said, having nothing but themselves to think about, must needs send for a doctor if their little finger ached.
