"If anything, they think she's worse."
Mrs. Flushing seemed to consider for a moment or two, looking straight
at Terence all the time.
"Let me tell you," she said, speaking in nervous jerks, "it's always
about the seventh day one begins to get anxious. I daresay you've been
sittin' here worryin' by yourself. You think she's bad, but any one
comin' with a fresh eye would see she was better. Mr. Elliot's had
fever; he's all right now," she threw out. "It wasn't anythin' she
caught on the expedition. What's it matter--a few days' fever? My
brother had fever for twenty-six days once. And in a week or two he was
up and about. We gave him nothin' but milk and arrowroot--"
Here Mrs. Chailey came in with a message.
"I'm wanted upstairs," said Terence.
"You see--she'll be better," Mrs. Flushing jerked out as he left the
room. Her anxiety to persuade Terence was very great, and when he left
her without saying anything she felt dissatisfied and restless; she did
not like to stay, but she could not bear to go. She wandered from room
to room looking for some one to talk to, but all the rooms were empty.
Terence went upstairs, stood inside the door to take Helen's directions,
looked over at Rachel, but did not attempt to speak to her. She appeared
vaguely conscious of his presence, but it seemed to disturb her, and she
turned, so that she lay with her back to him.
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