Mr. Worthing was very kind, and
shared the care of the poor young man with his parents and myself. At
length came the crisis of his disorder. "Now," said the physician, "for
a few hours, his life will hang, as it were, upon a thread. If the
powers of life of are not too far exhausted by the disease he may rally
but I have many fears, for he is brought very low. All the encouragement
I dare offer that is, while there is life there is hope."
He sunk into a deep slumber, and I took my place to watch by him
during the night. Mr. Worthing persuaded his parents to seek a few hours
rest, as they were worn out with fatigue and anxiety; and exacting from
me a promise that I would summon them if the least change for the worse
should take place, they retired, and I was left to watch alone by my
friend. All I could do was to watch and wait, as the hours passed
wearily on. A little before midnight the physician softly entered, and
stood with me at his bed-side; soon after he languidly opened his eyes,
and in a whisper he pronounced my name. As I leaned over him, and
eagerly scanned his countenance, I perceived that the delirium of fever
was gone. The physician, fearing the effect upon him of the least
excitement, made a motion to me enjoining silence, and mixing a quieting
cordial, held to his lips.
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