etter."
"I don't think it is getting better," said Fred. "You always say so, but
I don't think you have anything to show for it."
"You might say the same for yourself," said Henrietta, laughing. "You
have been getting better these three months, poor man, and you need not
boast."
"Well, at least I can show something for it," said Fred; "they allow
me a lark's diet instead of a wren's, I can hold up my head like other
people now, and I actually made my own legs and the table's carry me
to the window yesterday, which is what I call getting on. But I do not
think it is so with mamma. A fortnight ago she used to be up by ten or
eleven o'clock; now I don't believe she ever is till one."
"It has been close, damp weather," said Henrietta, surprised at the
accurate remembrance, which she could not confute. "She misses the cold
bracing wind."
"I don't like it," said Fred, growing silent, and after a short interval
beginning again more earnestly, "Henrietta, neither you nor any one else
are keeping anything from me, I trust?"
"O, no, no!" said Henrietta, eagerly.
"You are quite sure?"
"Quite," responded she. "You know all I know, every bit; and I know all
Aunt Geoffrey does, I am sure I do, for she always tells me what Mr.
Philip Carey says. I have heard Uncle and Aunt Geoffrey both say strong
things about keeping people in the dark, and I am convinced they would
not do so."
"I don't think they would," said Fred; "but I am not satisfied.
Recollect and tell me clearly, are they convinced that this is only
recovering slowly--I do not mean that; I know too well that this is not
a thing to be got rid of; but do they think that she is going to be as
well as usual?"
"I do," said Henrietta, "and you know I am more used to her illness than
any of them. Bennet and I were agreeing to-day that, considering how
bad the spasms were, and how much fatigue she had been going through, we
could not expect her to get on faster."
"You do? But that is not Aunt Geoffrey."
"O! Aunt Geoffrey is anxious, and expected her to get on faster, just
like Busy Bee expecting everything to be so quick; but I am sure
you could not get any more information from her than from me, and
impressions--I am sure you may trust mine, used as I am to watch mamma."
Fred asked no more; but it was observable that from that day he never
lost one of his mother's little notes, placing them as soon as read in
his pocket-book, and treasuring them careful
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