on the sofa and covered with
shawls; Mervyn returned to his bed, and Robert still watched.

There was a great calm after the storm, and Phoebe did not wake till the
dim wintry dawn was struggling with the yellow candlelight, and a
consultation was going on in low tones between Robert and the governess,
both wan and haggard in the uncomfortable light, and their words not more
cheering than their looks. Bertha had become feverish, passing from
restless, talking sleep to startled, painful wakening, and Miss Fennimore
wished Dr. Martyn to be sent for. Phoebe shivered with a cold chill of
disappointment as she gathered their meaning, and coming forward,
entreated the watchers to lie down to rest, while she relieved guard; but
nothing would persuade Miss Fennimore to relinquish her post; and soon
Phoebe had enough to do elsewhere; for her own peculiar patient, Mervyn,
was so ill throughout the morning, that she was constantly employed in
his room, and Robert looking on and trying to aid her, hated himself
doubly for his hasty judgments.

Maria alone could go to church on that Sunday morning, and her version of
the state of affairs brought Miss Charlecote to Beauchamp to offer her
assistance. She saw Dr. Martyn, and undertook the painful preliminary
explanation, and she saw him again after his inspection of Bertha.

'That's a first-rate governess! Exactly so! An educational hot-bed.
Why can't people let girls dress dolls and trundle hoops, as they used to
do?'

'I have never thought Bertha oppressed by her lessons.'

'So much the worse! Those who can't learn, or won't learn, take care of
themselves. Those who have a brain and use it are those that suffer! To
hear that poor child blundering algebra in her sleep might be a caution
to mothers!'

'Did you ever see her before, so as to observe the little hesitation in
her speech?'

'No, they should have mentioned that.'

'It is generally very slight; but one of them--I think, Maria--told me
that she always stammered more after lessons--'

'The blindness of people! As if that had not been a sufficient
thermometer to show when they were overworking her brain! Why, not one
of these Fulmorts has a head that will bear liberties being taken with
it!'

'Can you let us hope that this whole affair came from an affection of the
brain?'

'The elopement! No; I can't flatter you that health or sanity were in
fault there. Nor is it delirium now; the rambling is only in