Sitgreaves.
"Colonel Wellmere," said the operator, gravely, "is in what I call a
state of free will, madam. He is ill, or he is well, as he pleases. His
case, young lady, exceeds my art to heal; and I take it Sir Henry
Clinton is the best adviser he can apply to; though Major Dunwoodie has
made the communication with his leech rather difficult."
Frances smiled, but averted her face, while Sarah moved, with the grace
of an offended Juno, from the apartment. Her own room, however, afforded
her but little relief, and in passing through the long gallery that
communicated with each of the chambers of the building, she noticed the
door of Singleton's room to be open. The wounded youth seemed sleeping,
and was alone. She had ventured lightly into the apartment, and busied
herself for a few minutes in arranging the tables, and the nourishment
provided for the patient, hardly conscious of what she was doing, and
possibly dreaming that these little feminine offices were performed for
another. Her natural bloom was heightened by the insinuation of the
surgeon, nor was the luster of her eye in any degree diminished. The
sound of the approaching footsteps of Sitgreaves hastened her retreat
down a private stairway, to the side of her sister. The sisters then
sought the fresh air on the piazza; and as they pursued their walk, arm
in arm, the following dialogue took place:--
"There is something disagreeable about this surgeon of Dunwoodie," said
Sarah, "that causes me to wish him away most heartily.
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