or if _he_ could
not come, for some other advice, when the former--but not till after
five o'clock--arrived. His opinion, however, made some little amends
for his delay, for though acknowledging a very unexpected and
unpleasant alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger to
be material, and talked of the relief which a fresh mode of treatment
must procure, with a confidence which, in a lesser degree, was
communicated to Elinor. He promised to call again in the course of
three or four hours, and left both the patient and her anxious
attendant more composed than he had found them.

With strong concern, and with many reproaches for not being called to
their aid, did Mrs. Jennings hear in the morning of what had passed.
Her former apprehensions, now with greater reason restored, left her
no doubt of the event; and though trying to speak comfort to Elinor,
her conviction of her sister's danger would not allow her to offer the
comfort of hope. Her heart was really grieved. The rapid decay, the
early death of a girl so young, so lovely as Marianne, must have
struck a less interested person with concern. On Mrs. Jennings's
compassion she had other claims. She had been for three months her
companion, was still under her care, and she was known to have been
greatly injured, and long unhappy. The distress of her sister too,
particularly a favourite, was before her;--and as for their mother,
when Mrs. Jennings considered that Marianne might probably be to _her_
what Charlotte was to herself, her sympathy in _her_ sufferings was
very sincere.

Mr. Harris was punctual in his second visit; but he came to be
disappointed in his hopes of what the last would produce. His
medicines had failed; the fever was unabated; and Marianne only more
quiet--not more herself--remained in a heavy stupor. Elinor, catching
all, and more than all, his fears in a moment, proposed to call in
further advice. But he judged it unnecessary: he had still something
more to try, some more fresh application, of whose success he was as
confident as the last, and his visit concluded with encouraging
assurances which reached the ear, but could not enter the heart of
Miss Dashwood. She was calm, except when she thought of her mother;
but she was almost hopeless; and in this state she continued till
noon, scarcely stirring from her sister's bed, her thoughts wandering
from one image of grief, one suffering friend to another, and her
spirits oppressed to