CHAPTER XLII.
In the course of the night Lady Anne found that she had got a very bad sore throat, that her oblivion of pleasure the preceding evening was the herald of pain, which universally pervaded her frame, and the Count's words, "you have got your death of cold," seemed to be the only ones she could remember, and they were registered in her mind as a sentence decreeing her destruction.
Of all other expenses, Lady Anne had most avoided those which belonged to the faculty. Often had the words been addressed to her, "Miss Granard is extremely delicate, I think she should have the best advice before winter sets in," but never was her mamma of a similar opinion—generally speaking, she took great care of herself, and, having an excellent constitution, regularly attributed any temporary ailment of her daughters to carelessness, for which she prescribed "water gruel, and keeping in bed," being certain that under so safe a regimen, "they would get well as soon as possible, and learn to keep well also." That her system was an excellent one, was fully evinced by the general health of her family, and the great care
