whiter than
ever. "Pray do not interrupt your conversation to pay attention to me! I
thank you; I thank you both. I am subject to--slight spasms, and they do
make me look ill for the moment. It has passed now."

The doctor turned from her; Mr. Carlyle resumed his place by the window.
"What should be the treatment?" asked the latter.

"Almost anything you please--that the boy himself likes. Let him play or
rest, ride or walk, eat and drink, or let it alone; it cannot make much
difference."

"Doctor! You yield it, as a last hope, very lightly."

Dr. Martin shook his head. "I speak as I _know_. You insisted on having
my true opinion."

"A warmer climate?" suggested Mr. Carlyle eagerly, the idea crossing his
mind.

"It might prolong the end for a little while--a few weeks,
perhaps--avert it it could not. And who could take him? You could not
go; and he has no mother. No! I should not advise it."

"I wish you would see Wainwright--with reference to William."

"I have seen him. I met him this afternoon, by chance, and told him my
opinion. How is Mrs. Carlyle?"

"Pretty well. She is not in robust health, you are aware, just now."

Dr. Martin smiled. "These things will happen. Mrs. Carlyle has a
thoroughly good constitution; a far stronger one than--than----"

"Than what?" said Mr. Carlyle, wondering why he hesitated.

"You must grant me pardon. I may as well finish, now I have begun; but
I was not thinking when I spoke. She is stronger than was Lady Isabel. I
must be off to catch the six train."

"You will come over from time to time to East Lynne to see William?"

"If you wish it. It may be a satisfaction, perhaps. _Bon jour_, madame."

Lady Isabel bowed to him as he left the room with Mr. Carlyle. "How fond
that French governess of yours is of the boy!" the doctor whispered,
as they crossed the hall. "I detected it when she brought him to
Lynneborough. And you saw her just now! That emotion was all because he
could not live. Good-bye."

Mr. Carlyle grasped his hand. "Doctor, I _wish_ you could save him!" he
passionately uttered.

"Ah, Carlyle! If we humble mites of human doctors could but keep those
whom it is the Great Physician's pleasure to take, how we should be run
after! There's hidden mercy, remember, in the darkest cloud. Farewell my
friend."

Mr. Carlyle returned to the room. He approached Lady Isabel, looking
down upon her as she sat; not that he could see much of her face. "These
are grievou