In
the first place there was the visit made by Mr. Sowerby to the Dragon
of Wantly, and the consequent revelation made by Mark Robarts to his
wife. And while that latter subject was yet new, before Fanny and
Lucy had as yet made up their minds as to all the little economies
which might be practised in the household without serious detriment
to the master's comfort, news reached them that Mrs. Crawley of
Hogglestock had been stricken with fever. Nothing of the kind could
well be more dreadful than this. To those who knew the family it
seemed impossible that their most ordinary wants could be supplied
if that courageous head were even for a day laid low; and then the
poverty of poor Mr. Crawley was such that the sad necessities of a
sick bed could hardly be supplied without assistance. "I will go over
at once," said Fanny.
"My dear!" said her husband, "it is typhus, and you must first think
of the children. I will go."
"What on earth could you do, Mark?" said his wife. "Men on such
occasions are almost worse than useless; and then they are so much
more liable to infection."
"I have no children, nor am I a man," said Lucy, smiling: "for both
of which exemptions I am thankful. I will go, and when I come back I
will keep clear of the bairns.
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