It is so strange," she continued sorrowfully, "that with all his unselfishness he should think so little of our feelings in this." "Oh, you must make allowances for the morbidness of disease," returned Mr.Carlyon, shaking his head.

"Sick people have their fancies.

You must not lose heart, my dear,--remember you are my chief comfort as well as David's." Then again she tried to smile.

The next minute they came in sight of the White Cottage, and Mr.Carlyon left her to fulfil his self-imposed duties.
Elizabeth was right when she confessed that David Carlyon was a difficult patient, for his high spirit and energy had prevented him for a long time from owning he was ill.
Even in the early days of their engagement there had been symptoms that ought not to have been neglected; but he had fought his languor and fever manfully, and even Elizabeth knew nothing of an alarming attack of faintness that had followed an unusually hard day's work.
Afterwards he had taken cold, and his illness had been so sharp that Elizabeth in desperation had summoned his sister; but even then David had absolutely refused any further medical advice, and had also resisted all his friends' entreaties that he would be moved to the vicarage or the Wood House to be properly nursed.

"His old diggings were good enough for the likes of him," he would say, "and though Mother Pratt had her failings, she was not a bad sort;" and when Elizabeth pressed him more closely he had seemed quite worried.
"Do give me my way in this," he said to her coaxingly.