it
as towards a place whence comfort ought to be looked for. His wife had
persuaded him to exchange the wet coat for an old dressing-gown, which
change, however, seemed to have wrought no bettering of affairs.

"What is the matter?" said poor Mrs. Copley with a scared face. "I
can't make out anything from what he says."

"He has caught cold, I think," said Dolly very quietly; though her face
was white, and all the time of her ministrations in the kitchen she had
worked with that feeling of ice at her heart. "Father, here is your
coffee, and it is good; maybe this will make you feel better."

She had set her dishes nicely on the table; she had poured out the
coffee and cut a piece of the steak; but Mr. Copley would look at no
food. He drank a little coffee, and set the cup down.

"Sloppy stuff! Haven't you got any brandy?"

"You have had brandy already this afternoon, father. Take the coffee
now."

"Brandy? my teeth were chattering, and I took a wretched glass
somewhere. Do give me some more, Dolly! and stop this shaking."

"Where did you get cold, Mr. Copley?" asked his wife. "You have caught
a terrible cold."

"Nothing of the kind. I am all right. Just been in the rain; rain'll
wet any man; my coat's got it."

"But _when_, Frank?" urged his wife. "There has been no rain to-day; it
is clear, hot summer weather. When were you in the rain?"

"I don't know. Rain's rain. It don't signify when. Have you got nothing
better than this? I shall not stop shaking till morning."

And he did not. They got him to bed, and sat and watched by him, the
mother and daughter; watching the feverish trembling, and the feverish
flush that gradually rose in his cheeks. They could get no more
information as to the cause of the mischief. The truth was, that two or
three nights previous, Mr. Copley had sat long at play and drunk
freely; lost freely too; so that when at last he went home, his
condition of mind and body was so encumbered and confused that he took
no account of the fact that it was raining heavily. He was heated, and
the outer air was refreshing; Mr. Copley walked home to his lodgings;
was of course drenched through; and on getting home had no longer
clearness of perception enough in exercise to know that he must take
off his wet clothes. How he passed the night he never knew; but the
morning found him very miserable, and he had been miserable ever since.
Pains and aches, flushes of heat, creepings of inexplicable cold