e. When she had
sent the letter she sat working some hours longer, then she went
up-stairs and to bed. That night she was in a high fever.

Lawrence came, but she did not know it. He had a long talk with
Jerome, and almost a quarrel. The poor young fellow, in his wrath and
shame of thwarted manliness, would fain have gone to that excess of
honor which defeats its own ends. He insisted upon marrying Elmira
out of hand. "I'll never give her up--never, I'll tell you that. I've
told father so to his face!" cried Lawrence. When he went up-stairs
with Jerome and found Elmira in the uneasy stupor of fever, he seemed
half beside himself.

"I'm to blame, father's to blame. Oh, poor girl--poor girl," he
groaned out, when he and Jerome were down-stairs again.

That night Lawrence had a stormy scene with his father. He burst upon
him in his study and upbraided him to his face. "You've almost killed
her; she's got a fever. If she lives through it I am going to marry
her!" he shouted.

The doctor was pounding some drugs in his mortar. He brought the
pestle down with a dull thud, as he replied, without looking at his
son. "You will marry her or not, as you choose, my son. I have not
forbidden you; I have simply stated the conditions, so far as I am
concerned."

The next morning, before light, Lawrence was over to see Elmira.
After breakfast his mother came and remained the greater part of the
day. Elmira grew worse rapidly. Since Doctor Prescott was out of the
question, under the circumstances, a physician from Westbrook was
summoned. Elmira was ill several weeks; Lawrence haunted the house;
his mother and Paulina Maria did much of the nursing, as Mrs. Edwards
was unable. Neither Lawrence nor Mrs. Prescott ever fairly knew if
Doctor Prescott was aware that she nursed the sick girl. If he was,
he made no sign. He also said nothing more to Lawrence about his
visits.

It was nearly spring before Elmira was quite recovered. Her illness
had cost so much that Jerome had not been able to make good the
deficit occasioned by his loan to Ozias Lamb, as he would otherwise
have been. He postponed his mill again until autumn, and worked
harder than ever. That summer he tried the experiment of raising some
of the fine herbs, such as summer savory, sweet-marjoram, and thyme,
for the market. Elmira helped in that. There is always a relief to
the soul in bringing it into intimate association with the uniformity
of nature. Elmira, bending over