belief that she is in danger of a mortal disease! It is a peculiarity of
youth to brood over the thought of early death much more resignedly, much
more complacently, than we do in maturer years. Impress on a young
imaginative girl, as free from pulmonary tendencies as you and I are, the
conviction that she must fade away into the grave, and though she may not
actually die of consumption, you instil slow poison into her system. Hope
is the natural aliment of youth. You impoverish nourishment where you
discourage hope. As soon as this temporary illness is over, reject for
your daughter the melancholy care which seems to her own mind to mark her
out from others of her age. Rear her for the air, which is the kindest
life-giver; to sleep with open windows: to be out at sunrise. Nature
will do more for her than all our drugs can do. You have been hitherto
fearing Nature; now trust to her."

Here Mrs. Poyntz joined us, and having, while I had been speaking, written
my prescription and some general injunctions, I closed my advice with an
appeal to that powerful protectress.

"This, my dear madam, is a case in which I need your aid, and I ask it.
Miss Ashleigh should not be left with no other companion than her mother.
A change of faces is often as salutary as a change of air. If you could
devote an hour or two this very evening to sit with Miss Ashleigh, to talk
to her with your usual cheerfulness, and--"

"Annie," interrupted Mrs. Poyntz, "I will come and drink tea with you at
half-past seven, and bring my knitting; and perhaps, if you ask him, Dr.
Fenwick will come too! He can be tolerably entertaining when he likes it."

"It is too great a tax on his kindness, I fear," said Mrs. Ashleigh.
"But," she added cordially, "I should be grateful indeed if he would spare