'
'Indeed!' said Claude. 'Where? Who?'
'Oh! the Naylors, and the Rays, and the Walls. John Ray died this
morning, and they do not think that Tom Naylor will live.'
'Well,' interrupted Lord Rotherwood, 'I shall not stop to hear any
more of this chapter of accidents. I am off, but mind, remember the
30th, and do not any of you frighten yourselves into the fever.'
He went, and Lily now spoke. 'There is one thing in all this,
Claude, that is matter of joy, Tom Naylor has sent for Robert.'
'Then, Lily, I do most heartily congratulate you.'
'I hope things may go better,' said Lily, with tears in her eyes.
'The poor baby is with its grandmother. Mrs. Naylor is ill too, and
every one is so afraid of the fever that nobody goes near them but
Robert, and Mrs. Eden, and old Dame Martin. Robert says Naylor is in
a satisfactory frame--determined on having the baby christened--but,
oh! I am afraid the christening is to be bought by something
terrible.'
'I do not think those fevers are often very infectious,' said Claude.
'So papa says,' replied Emily; 'but Robert looks very ill. He is
wearing himself out with sitting up. Making himself nurse as well as
everything else.
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