"We only have seen her at her best times, my dear Paul. No one has seen her at her worst, except perhaps my father and Mrs. Stothard. These intermittent fits are, they tell me, a very bad sign. The chance were better, if the illness were more constant and protracted."
"It is too horrible!" cried Paul again. "George, what will you do?"
"Bear it, my boy," said his friend; "bear it as I have done things before now, and get on as best I can. I thought of going away, to endeavour in change by the excitement of travel to get rid of the thoughts which are now constantly occupying my mind, and I hope to return in a healthier state. But what you have just told me has altered my plan. The notion of seeing her once again, and speedily, has taken possession of me, and I confess I am not strong enough to fight against it. When do they come up to town?"
"At once, I believe. My mother says the governor's temper is unbearable, and that her only hope of any peace and comfort lies in bringing him to London. You will remain to see them?"
"Yes. As I said before, I cannot resist the temptation."
"Perhaps there may be hope even yet," said Paul. "Every one noticed how much better she was in health and spirits when in your society."
"I fear that improvement will not be permanent," said George, shaking his head sadly. "There was but one chance, and we seem to have lost even that."
"Well, there was a German doctor named Hildebrand, who lived at Dorrendorf, who achieved a wonderful reputation for his treatment in cases of mania. Even my father--who had had long disputations and polemical controversies with him, carried on in the medical journals of Berlin and London--allowed that he had performed some wonderful cures, although the means by which the end was arrived at were, he professed to consider, unprofessional and undignified."
"Well, why don't we get this old fellow to come over and see Annette at once? Dr. Wainwright wouldn't stand upon ceremony now that he knows the real state of the case; and money's no object, you know, George; we could stand any amount among us, if we could only get poor Annette put right."
"You may be sure I have thought of that," said George. "I spoke to my father about it, and know he would be delighted to aid in any way in getting old Hildebrand's advice, even though the method to be employed should be contrary to his ideas. But the old man has retired from practice for some time, and nothing can be heard of him. I have sent to some of my correspondents in Germany; but from the answers I have received, I am led to believe that he is dead."