– Ah, father! Hurry! Cassie has got much worse, and she's calling for you! – she said excitedly. – I borrowed a horse from a neighbour to come and fetch you!

The parson immediately became agitated, and his heart trembled.

– I will send my physician to you at once," said the viscount, who was watching the scene.

"Pretty! Pretty!" – thought Lord Draymore, looking intently at the excited and embarrassed face of the girl.

Viscount Wilworth left the hall and hurried after the doctor.

– What a pity! I hope your sister will soon recover," said the earl, looking at Christine with ill-concealed admiration.

The girl turned her beautiful eyes upon him and blushed.

– Thank you, sir, you are very kind," she murmured, surprised and delighted that the Count had addressed her.

– Come, Christine, there is no time to lose! – The pastor said hastily to his daughter, and taking her by the hand, went towards the large front doors. At the door he stopped and thanked the Count once more for his kindness.

– It is my duty, Reverend, to help the poor," he replied, wanting to make a good impression on the beautiful Christine.

She turned round and smiled at him with a smile full of embarrassment.

The parson was so puzzled by Cassie's condition that he paid no attention to the admiring glances exchanged between the Count of Draymore and his daughter Christine.

The Glowfords rode out of the landlord's huge, luxurious house, mounted the old, shabby horse waiting for them at the gate, and the horse trotted discreetly to Walsingham.

Viscount Wilworth had hoped that his physician would go with them, so when he saw that they had not waited for him, he felt slightly annoyed.

– Already gone? – he asked his friend, climbing the stairs to the first floor, where the sleeping rooms were.

– You have heard that little sister is not well at all," said the earl, absorbed in his thoughts of Christine.

– I have reported Miss Cassandra's illness to Mr. Morris, and he will see her as soon as he is ready to come to the village," said the Viscount, displeased at Colin's treatment of poor Cassie.

– Fine," murmured Lord Draymore; he was no longer listening to his friend's speech, but remembering the look Christine had given him before she left the house.

"A beautiful flower, blooming in the wilderness, far from the eyes of the city dandies… It is a pity she is only a rude peasant girl," he thought with regret and displeasure.

Cassie was not feeling well, much worse than she had in the morning: she had a high fever, and was writhing on her bed, throwing off the blanket Catherine had covered her with, delirious, and calling quietly to her father, "Daddy! Daddy!"

Catherine was greatly disturbed and frightened: none of the remedies she knew helped, and the girl sat with a strained face at the bedside, holding Cassie's hand, sometimes wetting her face with cold water.

The parson was also frightened by the condition of his beloved youngest daughter, for he too did not know how to help her. He secluded himself in his room, fell on his knees and prayed fervently. In spite of Cassie's illness and his fear, the pastor did not miss vespers, but finished it half an hour early. When the people of the village learnt that Cassie was very ill, they prayed for her health and saddened, went home.

While the parson was saying vespers, Mr. Morris, Viscount Wilworth's personal physician, visited the Glowford home and gave her a professional examination. At first he was struck by the squalor and repulsive poverty of the parson's house, but then he was struck by the beauty of poor Cassie, and, if earlier the noble lord's physician had been reluctant to carry out the Viscount's orders (to go to a remote village and treat a poor dirty peasant girl), now he felt pity for the younger Glowford and wished to do everything possible to make this beautiful girl well.

While Mr. Morris was in the house, Christine again escaped into solitude: she sat on her favourite stone, under the oak, and prayed quietly. No matter how she felt about her little sister, Christine loved her, and was as much afraid as anyone that she might lose her. Suddenly the girl heard someone's footsteps, and then someone sat down on the rock beside her. Christine opened her eyes, raised her head and saw John Tiley, the village sharpener, beside her. He was one of her admirers and had asked for her hand, but, like all who dared, had been refused. John loved Christine and hoped that she would change her mind and marry him: he was a good-looking, hard-working, young, healthy fellow, but Christine did not regard him as a bridegroom, much less as a future husband.

– I heard about your sister. I am sorry," said the lad, not knowing what words were required in such a delicate situation, and he could not speak nicely, so he often kept silent rather than spoke.

The girl answered nothing and turned her face away from him.

"How disgusting our country men are! Unhewn, rude, ugly, uneducated! Not like that count. His hands are so well-tended, so fair. And John's hands are like big potatoes, and he wants to touch me with his ugly, rough fingers? Never! I'd rather die an old maid than marry him or anyone like him! – Christine thought in disgust as she looked at John's hands lying in his lap. – And his face? He would only scare away the crows in the field! And that lord has such a handsome face! Why was I born here and not in some lady's family? Then the Count would have fallen in love with me and taken me as his wife… And his estate? This Rivershold is a sight to be admired! The paved walks, green fields with cut grass, big fountains, a lake with red fish, a huge house, probably as big as the king's. Ah, if only I hadn't been born here, but there, in the town where he came from!"

– Chris, if there's anything I can do to help…" John began again, trying to take her hand, but she pulled it away and gave him an angry, disgusted look.

– Go away, John! I don't want anything from you! – she said sharply, not deeming it necessary to show any delicacy to his unreciprocated feelings.

The lad looked at his beloved with longing and pain in his eyes, rose from the stone and, lowering his head, wandered home to his sharpening machine, perplexed by the behaviour of the object of his sincere love.

"What if I go to town? I can work and have good money. I'll send some of the money to Catherine and Cassie. After all, I'm young and healthy, I can cook, clean, do laundry, sew things. Maybe I can find a decent, rich husband there… It's a pity that lord will stay here. Yes, I'll speak to father today… No, not today: he's so worried about Cassie… Poor Cassie! I'll tell father when she's well, and in the meantime, I'll try to save up some money to get to the nearest town," Christine decided, when she saw in the city the ghostly hope of a good income and a decent life. The girl was not at all wicked, but decent, but she was drawn upwards, to a world where she would not have to sleep on a hard mattress, and where she could earn money to help her family.

When Christine returned home, Cassandra felt a little better: Mr. Morris had given her a tasty mixture and some powder, leaving three portions for the future. He told the pastor that the cause of Cassie's indisposition was a bad cold, but fortunately not fatal, and promised to visit her every day.

The pastor thanked the doctor warmly for his help and said he would pray God to reward him for his labours, and asked Mr. Morris to send his thanks also to Viscount Wilworth, who had insisted on his coming to see Cassie.

After a humble dinner, passed in silence, the Glowfords listened to a piece of Scripture, prayed, snuffed out the candle, and went to bed.