, but feeling as if
all his senses had gone into his ears, in his agony to hear more; and he
even seemed to catch his mother's voice, but there was no hope in that;
it was of her knowing it would be all for the best; and the sadness of it
told him that she believed the same as Betsey. Then came, 'Yes; I
declare it gave me such a turn, you might have knocked me down with a
feather. I asked Mr. Blunt to come in and see what's good for Mother,
she feels so weak at times, and has such a noise in her head, just like
the regiment playing drums, she says, till she can't hardly bear herself;
and so what do you think he says? Don't wrap up her head so warm, says
he--a pretty thing for a doctor to say, as if a poor old creature like
that, past seventy years old, could go without a bit of flannel to her
head, and her three night-caps, and a shawl over them when there's a
draught. I say, Cousin, I ha'n't got much opinion of Mr. Blunt. Why
don't you get some of them boxes of pills, that does cures wonderful?
Ever so many lords and ladies cured of a perplexity fit, by only just
taking an imposing draught or two.'

Another time Alfred would have laughed at the very imposing draught, that
was said to cure lords and ladies of this jumble between apoplexy and
paralysis; but this was no moment for laughing, and he was in despair at
fancying his mother wanted to lead her off on the quack medicine; but she
went on.

'Well, only read the papers that come with them. I make my girl Sally
read 'em all to me, being that she's a better scholar; and the long words
is quite heavenly--I declare there ain't one of them shorter than
peregrination. I'd have brought one of them over to shew you if I hadn't
come away in a hurry, because Evans's cart was going out to the merry
orchard, and says I to Mother, Well, I'll get a lift now there's such a
chance to Friarswood: it'll do them all a bit of good to see a bit of
cheerful company, seeing, as Mr. Blunt says, that poor lad is going after
his father as fast as can be. Dear me, says I, you don't say so, such a
fine healthy-looking chap as he was. Yes, he says, but it's in the
constitution; it's getting to the lungs, and he'll never last out the
winter.'

Alfred listened for the tone of his mother's voice; he knew he should
judge by that, even without catching the words--low, subdued, sad--he
almost thought she began with 'Yes.'

All the rest that he heard passed by him merely as a sound, noted