Clementina and an old maid-servant took it in
turns to watch by her bedside. It was strictly forbidden to leave
Henrietta alone for an instant, and Mr. Demetrius gave special orders
that her brother Koloman was not to be allowed to approach within six
paces of her bed because he was sure to bring cold air into the room, or
convey to her surreptitiously something which she ought not to have and
behave like a blockhead generally. So he was obliged to keep his
distance.
At last when weeks and weeks had flown by, God and blessed nature
helped the doctor to triumph over the effects of the poison. Henrietta
slowly began to mend. She was still very weak, but the doctor assured
them that she was quite out of danger and that the little capricious
fancies of convalescence might now be safely humoured.
Madame Langai, in the doctor's presence, asked the sick girl whether
there was anything in particular she would like, any food she fancied,
any pastime she preferred.
The pale, delicate-looking child languidly cast down her eyes as if she
would say: "I should like to lie in the grave--deep, deep, down." But
what she really did say was: "I should like to read something. I feel so
dull."
"That I cannot allow," said the doctor, "it would make your head ache,
but I have no objection to someone reading to you some nice, amusing
novel, Dickens's "Pickwick Papers," for instance, or a story of
Marryat's, something light and amusing, I mean, which will not excite
you too much.
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