# The Semi-attached Couple/Chapter 40

CHAPTER XL
The next morning at an early hour Lady Eskdale was roused from that most pleasing of all the phases of sleep—the slight extra doze that follows the opening of the shutters—by Helen, who was looking pale and agitated, and had a letter in her hand.
"Mamma dear, I am so vexed to disturb you, but I am going to set off for Southampton directly. Poor Teviot has been ill; he has had a bad fever; he cannot write himself, but I have heard from his secretary, who says they were going to move him from that dreadful Lisbon directly; and that the doctors hoped that the voyage would be of use. He is at sea now. I shall hardly arrive at Southampton before him. Oh, dearest mamma, is it not sad?" and Helen burst into tears,
"My darling child," said Lady Eskdale, who was so little accustomed to be awakened by any misfortune that she could not collect her scattered senses nor untie her nightcap, "you must not cry; of course you must go to dear Teviot directly, but you must have some breakfast first, Helen; a fever did you say, dear? Do untie this knot for me. I am quite awake now, so let me see the letter; you have got frightened, my pet; I dare say it is only a slight attack."
But when she had read the letter she saw that Helen's alarm was well-founded, and her tears fell on her child's head, which had sunk on her pillow. Lord Teviot had been suddenly seized with a bad fever which was then raging at Lisbon; and guarded as was the account sent ​by his secretary, it was evidently written under great alarm and anxiety. Eight days of illness had been sufficient to prostrate mind and body. Friends were judging and acting for him whose will had been so absolute and actions so decided; and the strong man whom no fatigue had seemed to weary was to be borne in a litter, unconscious and helpless, to the ship which was to bring him home, or to be his grave.
Lady Eskdale was completely overcome. Her first thought was to accompany her daughter, but that Helen declined with a peremptoriness that admitted of no resistance. She said that it would be great fatigue for her mother, that her own preparations were made, and that she should be off in half an hour; that Amelia had offered to go with her, but that she had rather go alone, and would write from Southampton the moment she arrived there.
"But my dear child," said poor Lady Eskdale, who was gradually relapsing into bewilderment under the suddenness of this trouble, "you cannot possibly go alone to a great noisy hotel at a seaport town; it is not proper, though to be sure you are married, I forgot that; but still you are so young; and then all that anxiety about your dear husband; and how are you to get on board the packet? and the beds won't be aired. I must get up directly and ask Lord Eskdale about it. How tiresome it is that Nelson never will put my dressing-slippers ready! Oh dear, how little we know what the day may bring forth! I wish now you had gone with dear Teviot, though perhaps you might have caught this dreadful fever yourself"
"You cannot wish it more than I do," said Helen, fervently. "I ought to have been with him; but I shall not be alone at the hotel, mamma. Mary Forrester was, you know, going back this week to her aunt, who lives in that neighbourhood, and she will stay with me till Teviot arrives."
​"But you two will be very helpless in that sort of place; Beaufort must go with you if you will not let papa and me go."
"No," said Helen, "no, I had rather go alone."
"Dear Nelly," said Lady Eskdale, looking with fond pity at the young fragile creature who was resting on the bed by her, looking miserable and pale, "you are not able to get through all this alone. Why should not Beaufort go with you?"
"Because, mamma," she said, throwing her arms round her mother's neck, "I do not think Teviot would like it. I did not like to tell you when first I came here, but at St. Mary's I was not quite happy. It was all my fault, but somehow poor Teviot was convinced that I thought too much of my own family; that I cared more for them than I did for him; and so—I cannot explain it, but I think he would be better pleased if I came by myself to meet him; and oh! if he is still very ill, I should like to nurse him and to wait upon him, and to make him happier than I did before. It would please him to have all my care to himself."
"You are right, darling; whatever will please your husband best it is your duty to do; so go, my child. I trust you will not want us, but if you do, we can come at any moment. God bless you, my dearest, and may all this trial end happily!"
"Yes, yes," said Helen, "it must, it will. Amelia has another grievance to tell you that will vex poor Teviot; but that does not signify if he gets well; and now I must go. Everything is ready; good-bye, my own dear mother."
And before the company at the Castle met at breakfast, Helen and Mary were gone. Lord and Lady Eskdale had heard from Amelia the intelligence she had gathered from Colonel Stuart, and he, with all the guests, were preparing for their departure, feeling that the family, under their ​present circumstances, would be glad to be left to themselves. Colonel Stuart was in a high state of annoyance at Lady Teviot's sudden disappearance, and his own ignorance of the impression which his news had made on her; and suddenly determined to go to Portsdown, and hear Lady Portmore's views on the subject.
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