faculty give her over? You should let her know the worst, and then she
must submit; for there is no running away from death. If she had any
matters to settle, put her upon settling them; and do not, by telling her
she will live, when there is no room to expect it, take from her the
opportunity of doing needful things. Do the surgeons actually give her
over?

They do, whispered they. Her gross habit, they say, gives no hopes. We
have sent for both surgeons, whom we expect every minute.

Both the surgeons (who are French; for Mrs. Sinclair has heard Tourville
launch out in the praise of French surgeons) came in while we were thus
talking. I retired to the farther end of the room, and threw up a window
for a little air, being half-poisoned by the effluvia arising from so
many contaminated carcases; which gave me no imperfect idea of the stench
of gaols, which, corrupting the ambient air, gives what is called the
prison distemper.

I came back to the bed-side when the surgeons had inspected the fracture;
and asked them, If there were any expectation of her life?

One of them whispered me, there was none: that she had a strong fever
upon her, which alone, in such a habit, would probably do the business;
and that the mortification had visibly gained upon her since they were
there six hours ago.

Will amputation save her? Her affairs and her mind want settling. A
few days added to her life may be of service to her in both respects.

They told me the fracture was high in her leg; that the knee was greatly