bert will come
round, and if there isn't he'll sink. But the doctor says nature will
have to make an effort. But I have my own idea about the case,' added
the landlady, with a sigh.

'What is your idea?'

'That our Robert was marked for death when he came into this house, and
that he meant what he said when he spoke of coming home to die. Things
had gone against him for the last ten years in America. He married and
took his wife out to a farm in the Bush, and thought to make a good
thing out of farming with the bit of brass he'd saved at heeam. But
America isn't Gert Langdale, you see, my lady, and his knowledge stood
him in no stead in the Bush; and first he lost his money, and he fashed
himself terrible about that, and then he lost a child or two, and then
he lost his wife, and he came back to us a broken-hearted man, with no
wish to live. The doctor may call it atrophy, but I will call it what
the Scripture calls it, a broken and a wounded spirit.'

'Who is your doctor?'

'Mr. Evans, of Ambleside.'

'That little half-blind old man!' exclaimed her ladyship. 'Surely you
have no confidence in him?'

'Not much, my lady. But I don't believe all the doctors in London could
do anything for Robert. Good nursing will bring him round if anything
can; and he gets that, I can assure your ladyship. He's my only brother,
the only kith and kin that's left to me, and he and I were gay fond of
each other when he was young. You may be sure I don't spare any trouble,
and my good man thinks the best of his larder or his celler hardly good
enough for Robert.'

'I am sure you are kind good people,' replied her ladyship gently; 'but
I should have thought Mr. Horton, of Grasmere, could have done more than
old Evans. However, you know best. I hope his lordship is not going to
add to your cares by being laid up here, but he looked very ill this
evening.'

'He did, my lady, mortal bad.'

'However, we must hope for the best. Steadman is a splendid servant in
illness. He nursed my father for years. Will you tell him to come to me,
if you please? I want to hear what he thinks of his lordship, and to
discuss the chances of our getting home early to-morrow.'

The landlady retired, and summoned Mr. Steadman, who was enjoying his
modest glass of grog in front of the kitchen fire. He had taught himself
to dispense with the consolations of tobacco, lest he should at any time
make himself obnoxious to her ladyship.

Steadman was closeted