The following morning, Miss Moreton, finding herself languid and enervated, as might naturally be expected after a long journey and the exertions of her mental powers, determined on having taken the infection the preceding evening, and was sickening of the fever. Medical assistance was immediately applied to, and Mary Cuthbert was stationary at the side of the bed. She was delighted to hear the physician give it as his decided opinion, that Miss Moreton had not the least symptom of approaching fever; that her pulse was regular; that her skin was moist; and that her whole frame wore the appearance of health.

Mary had no idea that the powers of imagination could be carried to so great an extent, and really supposed Miss Moreton to have been as ill as she had described. But when the physician, who was a sensible, rational man, assured her that her friend was the victim of fancy, and bade her keep up her spirits, for that there was nothing to be apprehended on her account, she felt reassured; and, though she continued her gentle attentions to Miss Moreton, yet they were unaccompanied by the anxiety which she had previously felt.

The two Captains, Walwyn and Walsingham, were soon announced. Mary was sitting at the bed-side of Miss Moreton. ‘Show Walwyn up, and do you go and entertain Captain Walsingham, for he seemed exclusively your beau last night,’ said Miss Moreton, in a tone of pique, and in a louder key than was quite consistent with the sickening stage of the fever.

‘Surely not,’ said Mary Cuthbert. ‘Surely, Miss Moreton, you cannot mean to admit Captain Walwyn into your bed-room; and it would be almost as improper for me to entertain Captain Walsingham alone. Your illness, and consequent confinement to your bed, will be a sufficient apology to the gentlemen; and I am confident, when they shall be thus informed, they will not expect admittance.