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Happily tact was coming with advancing years； and she did not attempt
to mingle in the conversation； which was resumed by Charles observing
that the strangest part of the affair was the incompatibility of so
novelish and imprudent a proceeding with the cautious； thoughtful
character of both parties。 It was； he said； analogous to a pentagon
flirting with a hexagon； whereas Guy； a knight of the Round Table； in
name and nature； and Amy； with her little superstitions； had been
attached in the most matter…of…fact； hum…drum way； and were in a course
of living very happy ever after； for which nature could never have
designed them。 Mrs。 Edmonstone smiled； sighed； hoped they were
prudent； and wondered whether camphor and chloride of lime were
attainable at Recoara。
Laura came down no more that day； for she was worn out with agitation；
and it was a relief to be sufficiently unwell to be excused facing her
father and Charles。 She had little hope that Charlotte had not heard
all； but she might seem to believe her ignorant； and could； therefore；
endure her waiting on her； with an elaborate kindness and compassion；
and tip…toe silence； far beyond the deserts of her slight
indisposition。
In the evening； Charles and his mother broke the tidings to Mr。
Edmonstone as gently as they could； Charles feeling bound to be the
cool； thinking head in the family。 Of course Mr。 Edmonstone stormed；
vowed that he could not have believed it； then veered round； and said
he could have predicted it from the first。 It was all mamma's fault
for letting him be so intimate with the girlshow was a poor lad to be
expected not to fall in love？ Next he broke into great wrath at the
abuse of his confidence； then at the interference with Guy； then at the
intolerable presumption of Philip's thinking of Laura。 He would soon
let him know what he thought of it！ When reminded of Philip's present
condition； he muttered an Irish imprecation on the fever for
interfering with his anger； and abused the 'romantic folly' that had
carried Guy to nurse him at Recoara。 He was not so much displeased
with Laura； in fact he thought all young ladies always ready to be
fallen in love with； and hardly accountable for what their lovers might
make them do； and he pitied her heartily； when he heard of her sitting
up all night。 Anything of extravagance in love met with sympathy from
him； and there was no effort in his hearty forgiveness of her。 He
vowed that she should give the fellow up； and had she been present；
would have tried to make her do so at a moment's warning； but in
process of time he was convinced that he must not persecute her while
Philip was in extremity； and though； like Charles； he scorned the
notion of his death； and； as if it was an additional crime； pronounced
him to be as strong as a horse； he was quite ready to put off all
proceedings till his recovery； being glad to defer the evil day of
making her cry。
So when Laura ventured out； she met with nothing harsh； indeed； but for
the sorrowful kindness of her family towards her； she could hardly have
guessed that they knew her secret。
Her heart leapt when Amabel's letter was silently handed to her； and
she saw the news of Philip's amendment； but a sickening feeling
succeeded； that soon all forbearance would be at an end； and he must
hear that her weakness had betrayed his secret。 For the present；
however； nothing was said； and she continued in silent dread of what
each day might bring forth； till one afternoon； when the letters had
been fetched from Broadstone； Mrs。 Edmonstone； with an exclamation of
dismay； read aloud：
'Recoara； September 8th。
'DEAREST MAMMA；Don't be very much frightened when I tell you that Guy
has caught the fever。 He has been ailing since Sunday； and yesterday
became quite ill； but we hope it will not be so severe an illness as
Philip's was。 He sleeps a great deal； and is in no pain； quite
sensible when he is awake。 Arnaud is very useful； and so is Anne； and
he is so quiet at night； that he wants no one but Arnaud； and will not
let me sit up with him。 Philip is better。
'Your most affectionate；
'A。F。M。'
The reading was followed by a dead silence； then Mr。 Edmonstone said he
had always known how it would be； and what would poor Amy do？
Mrs。 Edmonstone was too unhappy to answer； for she could see no means
of helping them。 Mr。 Edmonstone was of no use in a sick…room； and she
had never thought it possible to leave Charles。 It did not even occur
to her that she could do so till Charles himself suggested that she
must go to Amy。
'Can you spare me？' said she； as if it was a new light。
'Why not？ Who can be thought of but Amy？ She ought not to be a day
longer without you。'
'Dr。 Mayerne would look in on you；' said she； considering； 'and Laura
can manage for you。'
'Oh； I shall do very well。 Do you think I could bear to keep you from
her？'
'Some one must go；' said Mrs。 Edmonstone； 'and even if I could think of
letting Laura run the risk； this unhappy affair about Philip puts her
going out of the question。'
'No one but you can go； said Charles； 'it is of no use to talk of
anything else。'
It was settled that if the next account was not more favourable； Mr。
and Mrs。 Edmonstone should set off for Recoara。 Laura heard； in
consternation at the thought of her father's meeting Philip； still weak
and unwell； without her； and perhaps with Guy too ill to be consulted。
And oh！ what would Philip think of her？ Her weakness had disclosed his
secret； and sunk her beneath him； and he must hear it from others。 She
felt as if she could have thrown herself at her mother's feet as she
implored her to forbear； to spare him； to spare her。 Her mother pitied
her incoherent distress； but it did not make her feel more in charity
with Philip。 She would not promise that the subject should； not be
discussed； but she tried to reassure Laura by saying that nothing
should be done that could retard his recovery。
With this Laura was obliged to content herself； and early the second
morning； after the letter arrived； she watched the departure of her
father and mother。
She had expected to find the care of Charles very anxious work； but she
prospered beyond her hopes。 He was very kind and considerate； and both
he and Charlotte were so sobered by anxiety； that there was no fear of
their spirits overpowering her。
Mary Ross used to come almost every afternoon to inquire。 One day she
found Charles alone； crutching himself slowly along the terrace； and
she thought nothing showed the forlorn state of the family so much as
to see him out of doors with no one for a prop。
'Mary！ Just as I wanted you！'
'What account？' said she； taking the place of one of the crutches。
'Excellent； the fever and drows