You treat people you
don't love better than those you do it seems; or else your professions
of loving me mean nothing. All day long you have been after Fred's
balloon, and now I suppose mean to be all night long after Miss
Webster's foot."
Emilie made no reply; she could only have reproached Edith for
selfishness and temper at least equal to Miss Webster's, but telling
Lucy she should soon return, hastened to Mr. Parker's house, followed by
Edith; he was soon at the patient's side, and as Emilie foretold, it was
a case more for an attentive nurse than a skilful doctor. He promised to
send her an application, but, "Miss Schomberg," said he, "sleep is what
she wants; she tells me she has had no rest since the accident occurred.
What is to be done?" "Can you not send for a neighbour, Miss Webster, or
some one to attend to your household, and to nurse you too. If you worry
yourself in this way you will be quite ill."
Poor Miss Webster was ill, she knew it; and having neither neighbour
nor friend within reach, she did what was very natural in her case, she
took up her handkerchief and began to cry.
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