"
"Excuse me a moment," she said, and left the room. In a little while
she returned, and asked me to accompany her up stairs,
I found the daughter in a black and gray silk wrapper, seated on a
lounge. She arose as I entered, a slight flush coming into her face,
which subsided in a few moments, leaving it quite pale, and weary
looking. After we were all seated, I took her hand, which was hot in
the palm, but cold at the extremities. Her pulse was feeble,
disturbed, and quick.
"How is your head?" I asked.
"It feels a little strangely," she replied, moving it two or three
times, as if to get some well defined sensation.
"Any pain?"
"Yes; a dull kind of pain over my left eye, that seems to go deep
into my head."
"What general bodily sensation have you? Any that you can speak of
definitely?"
"None, except a sense of oppression and heaviness. When I raise my
arm, it seems to fall like lead; if I move about, I am weary, and
wish to be at rest."
"Rest is, by all means, the most desirable condition for you now,"
said I. Then addressing her mother, I added--"I think your daughter
had better lie down.
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