She lifted her head up a little and asked, 'How long do yo' think she was unconscious, doctor?
Could she hear things, think yo', afore she fell into that strange kind o' slumber ?' 'I cannot tell,' said he, shaking his head.

'Was she breathing in that hard snoring kind of way when you left her this morning ?' 'Yes, I think so; I cannot tell, so much has happened.' 'When you came back to her, after your breakfast, I think you said she was in much the same position ?' 'Yes, and yet I may be telling yo' lies; if I could but think: but it's my head as is aching so; doctor, I wish yo'd go, for I need being alone, I'm so mazed.' 'Good-night, then, for you're a wise woman, I see, and mean to go to bed, and have a good night with baby there.' But he went down to Phoebe, and told her to go in from time to time, and see how her mistress was.
He found Hester Rose and the old servant together; both had been crying, both were evidently in great trouble about the death and the mystery of the day.
Hester asked if she might go up and see Sylvia, and the doctor gave his leave, talking meanwhile with Phoebe over the kitchen fire.
Hester came down again without seeing Sylvia.

The door of the room was bolted, and everything quiet inside.
'Does she know where her husband is, think you ?' asked the doctor at this account of Hester's.

'She's not anxious about him at any rate: or else the shock of her mother's death has been too much for her.
We must hope for some change in the morning; a good fit of crying, or a fidget about her husband, would be more natural.

Good-night to you both,' and off he went.
Phoebe and Hester avoided looking at each other at these words.