The Maidens of Walsingham - стр. 17

– Already gone? – he asked his friend, climbing the stairs to the first floor, where the sleeping rooms were.

– You have heard that little sister is not well at all," said the earl, absorbed in his thoughts of Christine.

– I have reported Miss Cassandra's illness to Mr. Morris, and he will see her as soon as he is ready to come to the village," said the Viscount, displeased at Colin's treatment of poor Cassie.

– Fine," murmured Lord Draymore; he was no longer listening to his friend's speech, but remembering the look Christine had given him before she left the house.

"A beautiful flower, blooming in the wilderness, far from the eyes of the city dandies… It is a pity she is only a rude peasant girl," he thought with regret and displeasure.

Cassie was not feeling well, much worse than she had in the morning: she had a high fever, and was writhing on her bed, throwing off the blanket Catherine had covered her with, delirious, and calling quietly to her father, "Daddy! Daddy!"

Catherine was greatly disturbed and frightened: none of the remedies she knew helped, and the girl sat with a strained face at the bedside, holding Cassie's hand, sometimes wetting her face with cold water.

The parson was also frightened by the condition of his beloved youngest daughter, for he too did not know how to help her. He secluded himself in his room, fell on his knees and prayed fervently. In spite of Cassie's illness and his fear, the pastor did not miss vespers, but finished it half an hour early. When the people of the village learnt that Cassie was very ill, they prayed for her health and saddened, went home.

While the parson was saying vespers, Mr. Morris, Viscount Wilworth's personal physician, visited the Glowford home and gave her a professional examination. At first he was struck by the squalor and repulsive poverty of the parson's house, but then he was struck by the beauty of poor Cassie, and, if earlier the noble lord's physician had been reluctant to carry out the Viscount's orders (to go to a remote village and treat a poor dirty peasant girl), now he felt pity for the younger Glowford and wished to do everything possible to make this beautiful girl well.

While Mr. Morris was in the house, Christine again escaped into solitude: she sat on her favourite stone, under the oak, and prayed quietly. No matter how she felt about her little sister, Christine loved her, and was as much afraid as anyone that she might lose her. Suddenly the girl heard someone's footsteps, and then someone sat down on the rock beside her. Christine opened her eyes, raised her head and saw John Tiley, the village sharpener, beside her. He was one of her admirers and had asked for her hand, but, like all who dared, had been refused. John loved Christine and hoped that she would change her mind and marry him: he was a good-looking, hard-working, young, healthy fellow, but Christine did not regard him as a bridegroom, much less as a future husband.

– I heard about your sister. I am sorry," said the lad, not knowing what words were required in such a delicate situation, and he could not speak nicely, so he often kept silent rather than spoke.

The girl answered nothing and turned her face away from him.