upon this subject;
Lucy's cheek, but just now so pale and marble-like, soon began to glow
with fever; her pulse, but just restored to action, now told with momently
increasing hurry that illness had seized the delicate frame; the sudden
revulsion from new-born hope to despair had been too much for it. Poor Mr.
Lee! what did his heart say now? Did it yet upbraid him? Dr. Kent, who had
set out on a course of visits, could not at once be found, and the
wretched father sat gazing in agonizing helplessness on his suffering
child until the decline of the day. What would he have given to live over
again the last few hours! At length the physician appeared: 'Now,' said
he, on accosting Mr. Lee, 'do you think I know my own business or not? Do
I make mountains of mole-hills or not? I knew what I was about, didn't I?'

'Alas, yes!' replied the other, in a self-accusing tone, 'and _I_ did not;
but oh! merciful Providence! is it too late now?'

'Too late? Heaven knows, poor young lady! she'd have been better off if
she'd been an ugly twelfth daughter, with no one to trouble themselves
much about her, instead of a beautiful darling, that must have one
particular sort of happiness and no other.'

'Spare me! spare me, my friend!' implored Mr. Lee.

'I wish you had spared yourself,' grumbled Dr. Kent.

The Doctor was, it must be allowed, a little rough; but he had been so
thoroughly annoyed, after having, as he thought, with unparalleled cunning
and discretion detected the difficulty and provided a remedy, to find his
plans thwarted by an obstinate wilfulness, that he could not help boiling
over a little: his kind feelings however soon got the ascendency; the deep
contrition of the poor father touched his heart, and the lovely girl who
had only increased his interest in her by making good his words, received
from him the most attentive care; nor could he doubt that at length his
advice was appreciated, when he heard Mr. Lee take every opportunity of
mentioning Mr. Lillburgh's name with approbation and kindness, always
regretting that he had made such a mistake as to send him away the last
time he had called at the house.

But who may venture to choose their own time for showing kindness? Who
may, having refused to 'do good when it was in the power of his hand to do
it,' resume at will the precious privilege? Dr. Kent, satisfied with his
friend's repentance, was willing to take any step which might avail to
retrieve the mischief; bu