d in one terrible word:

"Perhaps."

It was then the first week in December. I understood that I might
reckon--at the utmost--on three weeks of life. What I felt, on arriving
at this conclusion, I shall not say. It is the one secret I keep from
the readers of these lines.

The next day, Mrs. Rymer called once more to make inquiries. Not
satisfied with the servant's report, she entreated that I would consent
to see her. My housekeeper, with her customary kindness, undertook to
convey the message. If she had been a wicked woman, would she have acted
in this way? "Mrs. Rymer seems to be sadly distressed," she pleaded. "As
I understand, sir, she is suffering under some domestic anxiety which
can only be mentioned to yourself."

Did this anxiety relate to Susan? The bare doubt of it decided me. I
consented to see Mrs. Rymer. Feeling it necessary to control her in the
use of her tongue, I spoke the moment the door was opened.

"I am suffering from illness; and I must ask you to spare me as much as
possible. What do you wish to say to me?"

The tone in which I addressed Mrs. Rymer would have offended a more
sensitive woman. The truth is, she had chosen an unfortunate time for
her visit. There were fluctuations in the progress of my malady; there
were days when I felt better, and days when I felt worse--and this was
a bad day. Moreover, my uncle had tried my temper that morning. He had
called to see me, on his way to winter in the south of France by his
physician's advice; and he recommended a trial of change of air in
my case also. His country house (only thirty miles from London) was
entirely at my disposal; and the railway supplied beds for invalids. It
was useless to answer that I was not equal to the effort. He reminded me
that I had exerted myself to leave my bedchamber for my arm-chair in the
next room, and that a little additional resolution would enable me to
follow his advice. We parted in a state of irritation on either side
which, so far as I was concerned, had not subsided yet.

"I wish to speak to you, sir, about my daughter," Mrs. Rymer answered.

The mere allusion to Susan had its composing effect on me. I said kindly
that I hoped she was well.

"Well in body," Mrs. Rymer announced. "Far from it, sir, in mind."

Before I could ask what this meant, we were interrupted by the
appearance of the servant, bringing the letters which had arrived for me
by the afternoon post. I told the man, impatiently, to p