"I think one of my bad headaches is coming on, mammy. But oh, tell me, is
Mr. Travilla here?--and papa! where is he?"
"Here daughter," his voice answered, close at hand, "and with a note for
you from Mr. Travilla, who has not shown himself to-day."
She took it eagerly, but with a hand that trembled as if with sudden
palsy, while the eyes, usually so keen-sighted, saw only a blurred and
confused jumble of letters in place of the clear, legible characters
really there.
"I cannot see," she said, in a half-frightened tone, and pressing the
other hand to her brow.
"And you are trembling like an aspen leaf," he said, bending over her in
serious alarm. "My child, when did this come on? and what has caused it?"
"Papa, I cannot tell you now, or till to-morrow, at this hour; I will
then. But oh, papa dear, dear papa!" she cried, putting her arm about his
neck and bursting into hysterical weeping, "promise me, if you love me
promise me, that you will not leave the house till I have told you. I am
sick, I am suffering; you will stay by me? you will not leave me?"
"My darling, I will do anything I can to relieve you, mentally or
physically," he answered in tones of tenderest love and concern. "I shall
not stir from the house, while to do so would increase your suffering.
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