rs, if you will
take him; and you can write about him with an open heart.
I cannot do so. Think of poor Florian and his horrid
death. Is this a time for marriage,--if it were otherwise
possible,--which it is not?

God bless you, dear Rachel. Let me hear from you again
soon. I have said nothing to Frank as yet. I attempted
it this morning, but was stopped. You can imagine
that he, poor fellow, is not very happy.--Yours very
affectionately,

EDITH JONES.

Rachel read the letter on her sick bed, and as soon as it was read
Lord Castlewell came to her. There was always a nurse there, but Lord
Castlewell was supposed to be able to see the patient, and on one
occasion had been accompanied by his sister. It was all done in the
most proper form imaginable, much to Rachel's disgust. Incapable as
she was in her present state of carrying on any argument, she was
desirous of explaining to Lord Castlewell that he was not to hold
himself as bound to marry her. "If you think that father is an ass,
you had better say so outright, and let there be an end of it."
She wished to speak to him after this fashion. But she could not
say it in the presence of the nurse and of Lady Augusta. But Lord
Castlewell's conduct to herself made her more anxious than ever to
say something of the kind. He was very civil, even tender, in his
inquiries, but he was awfully frigid. She could tell from his manner
that that last speech of hers was rankling in his bosom as the frigid
words fell from his lips. He was waiting for some recovery,--a
partial recovery would be better than a whole one,--and then he would
speak his mind. She wanted to speak her mind first, but she could
hardly do so with her throat in its present condition.

She had no other friend than her father, no other friend to take her
part with her lovers. And she had, too, fallen into such a state
that she could not say much to him. According to the orders of the
physician, she was not to interest herself at all about anything.

"I wonder whether the man was ever engaged to two or three lovers at
once," she said to herself, alluding to the doctor. "He knows at any
rate of Lord Castlewell, and does he think that I am not to trouble
myself about him?"

She had a tablet under her pillow, which she took out and wrote on
it certain instructions. "Dear father, C. and I quarrelled before
I was ill at all, and now he comes here just as though nothing
had happened