'How can I help loving you, my dear mamma?'
'You do love me, you do love me very much; do you not, sweet child?'
'Better than all the world,' replied Venetia to her enraptured parent.
'And yet, in the fever I seemed to love some one else: but fevers are
like dreams; they are not true.'
Lady Annabel pressed her lips gently to her daughter's, and whispered
her that she must speak no more.
When Mr. Hawkins returned, he gave a favourable report of Venetia. He
said that all danger was now past, and that all that was required for
her recovery were time, care, and repose. He repeated to Lady Annabel
alone that the attack was solely to be ascribed to some great mental
shock which her daughter had received, and which suddenly had affected
her circulation; leaving it, after this formal intimation, entirely to
the mother to take those steps in reference to the cause, whatever it
might be, which she should deem expedient.
In the evening, Lady Annabel stole down for a few moments to Dr.
Masham, laden with joyful intelligence; assured of the safety of her
child, and, what was still more precious, of her heart, and even
voluntarily promising her friend that she should herself sleep
this night in her daughter's chamber, on the sofa-bed.
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