And we went
up to the sick girl's chamber; that north-west room, at the window
of which I had first seen the fair stranger, as I stood wondering in
storm and darkness. I found her lying in apparent sleep, and
breathing heavily. Her face was flushed; and I noticed the peculiar
odor that usually accompanies an eruptive fever.
"How do you feel now?" I asked.
She had opened her eyes as I took her hand. She did not answer, but
looked at me in a half bewildered way. Her skin was hot and the
pulse small, but tense and corded.
"Does your head ache?"
I wished to arouse her to external consciousness.
"Oh, it's you, Doctor."
She recognized me and smiled faintly.
"How are you now?" I inquired.
"Not so well, I think, Doctor," she answered. "My head aches worse
than it did; and I feel sick all over. I don't know what can ail
me."
"Have you any uneasiness, or sense of oppression in the stomach?" I
inquired.
"Oh, yes, Doctor." She laid her hand upon her chest; and drew in a
long breath, as if trying to get relief.
"Have you felt as well as usual for a week, or ten days past?" I
inquired.
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