"Come with me.

You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and much mental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know of.
You must not be alone, for to be alone is to be full of fears and alarms.

Come to the drawing room, where there is a big fire, and there are two sofas.

You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not speak, and even if we sleep." Arthur went off with him, casting back a longing look on Lucy's face, which lay in her pillow, almost whiter than the lawn.

She lay quite still, and I looked around the room to see that all was as it should be.