But the look filled her with solemn thoughts, in which she was surprised to find a certain comfort, as of a sad wish fulfilling itself.
She spoke to no one of that look, but it must have been the same look that Theophil saw, a few nights after, as she sat listening to him reading in her usual chair.

Suddenly, as he looked up at her, he threw down the book, and with concern, almost terror, in his voice, exclaimed, "Good God, Jenny! are you ill, dear?
What is that terrible white look in your face ?" He sprang across and took her hands.

The look had gone again before he had finished speaking, but it was a look he was never to forget.
One day Jenny put out her arm, and asked him to feel how thin it was growing.
"It _is_ thin, dear; but you mustn't be anxious.

Perhaps you're a trifle run down.

You must see the doctor." Mrs.Talbot did not believe in doctors, and suggested nourishing soups and port wine as a substitute.