Lucy is ill, that is she has no special disease, but she looks awful, and is getting worse every day.

I have asked her if there is any cause, I not dare to ask her mother, for to disturb the poor lady's mind about her daughter in her present state of health would be fatal.

Mrs.Westenra has confided to me that her doom is spoken, disease of the heart, though poor Lucy does not know it yet.

I am sure that there is something preying on my dear girl's mind.

I am almost distracted when I think of her.