"No, madam; he has no physician, and no attendance at all!"
"And is it possible that in such a situation you can refuse to be assisted? Surely you should accept some help for him, if not for yourself."
"But what will that signify when, if I do, he will not make use of it? and when he had a thousand and a thousand times rather die, than let any one know he is in want?"
"Take it, then, unknown to him; serve him without acquainting him you serve him. Surely you would not suffer him to perish without aid?"
"Heaven forbid! But what can I do? I am under his command, madam, not he under mine!"
"Is he your father?--Pardon my question, but your youth seems much to want such a protector."
"No, madam, I have no father! I was happier when I had! He is my brother."
"And what is his illness?"
"A fever."
"A fever, and without a physician! Are you sure, too, it is not infectious?"
"O yes, too sure!"
"Too sure? how so?"
"Because I know too well the occasion of it!"
"And what is the occasion?" cried Cecilia, again taking her hand, "pray trust me; indeed you shall not repent your confidence. Your reserve hitherto has only raised you in my esteem, but do not carry it so far as to mortify me by a total rejection of my good offices."
"Ah madam!" said the young woman, sighing, "you ought to be good, I am sure, for you will draw all out of me by such kindness as this! the occasion was a neglected wound, never properly healed."
"A wound? is he in the army?"
"No,--he was shot through the side in a duel."
"In a duel?" exclaimed Cecilia, "pray what is his name?"
"O that I must not tell you! his name is a great secret now, while he is in this poor place, for I know he had almost rather never see the light again than have it known."
"Surely, surely," cried Cecilia, with much emotion, "he cannot--I hope he cannot be Mr Belfield?"
"Ah Heaven!" cried the young woman, screaming, "do you then know him?"
Here, in mutual astonishment, they looked at each other.
"You are then," said Cecilia, "the sister of Mr Belfield? And Mr Belfield is thus sick, his wound is not yet healed,--and he is without any help!"
"And who, madam, are you?" cried she, "and how is it you know him?"
"My name is Beverley."
"Ah!" exclaimed she again, "I fear I have done nothing but mischief! I know very well who you are now, madam, but if my brother discovers that I have betrayed him, he will take it very unkind, and perhaps never forgive me."