In a little while she returned, and asked me to accompany her up stairs.
I found the daughter in a black and gray silk wrapper, seated on a lounge.

She arose as I entered, a slight flush coming into her face, which subsided in a few moments, leaving it quite pale, and weary looking.

After we were all seated, I took her hand, which was hot in the palm, but cold at the extremities.

Her pulse was feeble, disturbed, and quick.
"How is your head ?" I asked.
"It feels a little strangely," she replied, moving it two or three times, as if to get some well defined sensation.
"Any pain ?" "Yes; a dull kind of pain over my left eye, that seems to go deep into my head." "What general bodily sensation have you?
Any that you can speak of definitely ?" "None, except a sense of oppression and heaviness.

When I raise my arm, it seems to fall like lead; if I move about, I am weary, and wish to be at rest." "Rest is, by all means, the most desirable condition for you now," said I.Then addressing her mother, I added--"I think your daughter had better lie down.