I never saw your brother so upset as he is now, Mr.George, in all his life.
"No ?" answered George Sheldon thoughtfully; "Phil isn't generally one of your sensitive sort." The invalid was sleeping heavily during this conversation.

George stood by the bed for some minutes looking down at the altered face, and then turned to leave the room.
"Good night, Mrs.Halliday," he said; "I hope I shall find poor old Tom a shade better when I look round to-morrow." "I am sure I hope so," Georgy answered mournfully.
She was sitting by the window looking out at the darkening western sky, in which the last lurid glimmer of a stormy sunset was fading against a background of iron gray.
This quiet figure by the window, the stormy sky, and ragged hurrying clouds without, the dusky chamber with all its dismally significant litter of medicine-bottles, made a gloomy picture--a picture which the man who looked upon it carried in his mind for many years after that night.
George Sheldon and Nancy Woolper left the room together, the Yorkshirewoman carrying a tray of empty phials and glasses, and amongst them the cup of beef-tea.
"He seems in a bad way to-night, Nancy," said George, with a backward jerk of his head towards the sick-chamber.
"He is in a bad way, Mr.George," answered the woman gravely, "let Mr.
Philip think what he will.

I don't want to say a word against your brother's knowledge, for such a steady studious gentleman as he is had need be clever; and if I was ill myself, I'd trust my life to him freely; for I have heard Barlingford folks say that my master's advice is as good as any regular doctor's, and that there's very little your regular doctors know that he doesn't know as well or better.

But for all that, Mr.George, I don't think he understands Mr.Halliday's case quite as clear as he might." "Do you think Tom's in any danger ?" "I won't say that, Mr.George; but I think he gets worse instead of getting better." "Humph!" muttered George; "if Halliday were to go off the hooks, Phil would have a good chance of getting a rich wife." "Don't say that, Mr.George," exclaimed the Yorkshirewoman reproachfully; "don't even think of such a thing while that poor man lies at death's door.

I'm sure Mr.Sheldon hasn't any thoughts of that kind.