nce.
But these likings were far more scantily shown than her dislikes, and it
was hard for her attendants to acquiesce in the physician's exhortations
to be patient till her spirits and nerves should have recovered the
shock. Even the entrance of a new housemaid threw her into a trepidation
which she was long in recovering, and any proposal of seeing any person
beyond the few who had been with her from the first, occasioned
trembling, entreaties, and tears.
Phoebe, after her brief heroineship, had lapsed into quite a secondary
position. In the reaction of the brothers' feeling towards each other,
they almost left her out. Both were too sure of her to be eager for her;
and besides, as Bertha slowly improved, Mervyn's prime attention was
lavished on the endeavour to find what would give her pleasure. And in
the sick room, Miss Fennimore and Miss Charlecote could better rule;
while Maria was preferred as a companion. Honor often admired to see how
content Phoebe was to forego the privilege of waiting on her sister,
preparing pleasures and comforts for her in the background, and
committing them to the hands whence they would be most welcome, without a
moment's grudge at her own distastefulness to the patient. She seemed to
think it the natural consequence of the superiority of all the rest, and
fully acquiesced. Sometimes a tear would rise for a moment at Bertha's
rude petulance, but it was dashed off for a resolute smile, as if with
the feeling of a child against tears, and she as plainly felt the
background her natural position, as if she had never been prominent from
circumstances. Whatever was to be done, she did it, and she was far more
grateful to Mervyn for loving Robert and enduring Maria, than for any
preference to herself. Always finding cause for thanks, she rejoiced
even in the delay caused by Bertha's illness, and in Robert's stay in his
brother's home, where she had scarcely dared to hope ever to have seen
him again. Week after week he remained, constantly pressed by Mervyn to
delay his departure, and not unwillingly yielding, since he felt that
there was a long arrear of fraternal kindness to be made up, and that
while St. Matthew's was in safe hands, he might justly consider that his
paramount duty was to his brother and sisters in their present need. At
length, however, the Lent services claimed him in London, and affairs at
Beauchamp were so much mended, that Phoebe owned that they ought no
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