Others may bring that grey head with sorrow to the bed of sickness (here Mrs.Bute, waving her hand, pointed to one of old Miss Crawley's coffee-coloured fronts, which was perched on a stand in the dressing-room), but I will never quit it.

Ah, Mr.Clump! I fear, I know, that the couch needs spiritual as well as medical consolation." "What I was going to observe, my dear Madam,"-- here the resolute Clump once more interposed with a bland air--"what I was going to observe when you gave utterance to sentiments which do you so much honour, was that I think you alarm yourself needlessly about our kind friend, and sacrifice your own health too prodigally in her favour." "I would lay down my life for my duty, or for any member of my husband's family," Mrs.Bute interposed.
"Yes, Madam, if need were; but we don't want Mrs Bute Crawley to be a martyr," Clump said gallantly.

"Dr Squills and myself have both considered Miss Crawley's case with every anxiety and care, as you may suppose.

We see her low-spirited and nervous; family events have agitated her." "Her nephew will come to perdition," Mrs.Crawley cried.
"Have agitated her: and you arrived like a guardian angel, my dear Madam, a positive guardian angel, I assure you, to soothe her under the pressure of calamity.

But Dr.Squills and I were thinking that our amiable friend is not in such a state as renders confinement to her bed necessary.