Her rapid, impassioned declamation was ended by a copious flood of
grief that provoked a frightful fit of coughing. When this was
subdued she was weaker than a year-old infant, and lay between
stupor and dreaming for so long a time, that Mrs. Sutton became
alarmed.
There must be no repetition of this scene. She most ward off similar
mishaps by whatever measures she could force or cajole her
conscience into adopting. Rosa's state was more precarious than her
account had led her friend to believe, or than the nurse's
experienced eye had seen at their meeting. The main hope of her
recovery was in the warmer climate and assiduous attendance. Above
all, she should not be allowed to exhaust herself by talking, or
hysterical paroxysms. She had no more self-control than a child, and
she must be treated as such. Mrs. Sutton's jesuitical resolve was to
humor her by every imaginable device, even to feigned friendship for
Frederic Chilton.
Fortified by this resolution, she heard, without any show of pride
or trepidation, the clatter of horses' hoofs in the yard; the sound
of voices below stairs, as Mr. Chilton ushered the physician into
the parlor, and the light, careful tread with which he mounted to
his wife's apartment. His momentary pause at the entrance, and
surprised look at beholding the other tenant of the chamber, were
the best passport to her indulgence he could have desired. It was
clear to her instantly that poor Rosa's passion for manoeuvring had
survived the wreck of health and prostration of spirits. She had
never chosen the straight path if she could find a crooked or a
by-road, and her project for obtaining Mrs. Sutton's services and
company had been put into execution, without consultation with her
husband. However reprehensible this might be in the abstract, it was
not in the kind old soul to betray her, as she advanced, placidly
and civilly, to reassure the startled man.
"How are you, Mr. Chilton? You hardly expected to meet me here, I
suppose? But I am a near neighbor of Mrs. Tazewell now, and hearing
that Rosa was sick, I came over to see if I could do anything for
her, knowing how infirm her mother is."
"You are very kind!" He grasped her hand more tightly than he
intended, or was conscious of. "We were ignorant ourselves of Mrs.
Tazewell's true condition. Mrs. Chilton's sisters have forwarded
more encouraging reports to her of her mother's illness than they
would have been warranted in doing by anything except the fear that
a faithful account would operate injuriously upon the daughter's
health. I should have chosen some other home for my wife, had I
known the actual state of affairs here. Change of scene and climate
was imperatively demanded."