Give me the date to-night, and you shall have the volume you want by two o'clock to-morrow afternoon." The necessary information was given at once, and, with a great sense of relief, so far as his literary anxieties were concerned, Mr.Carling went home early to see what the quieting medicine had done for his wife.
She had dozed a little, but had not slept.

However, she was evidently better, for she was able to take an interest in the sayings and doings at the dinner-party, and questioned her husband about the guests and the conversation with all a woman's curiosity about the minutest matters.
She lay with her face turned toward him and her eyes meeting his, until the course of her inquiries drew an answer from him, which informed her of his fortunate discovery in relation to Mr.Rambert's library, and of the prospect it afforded of his resuming his labors the next day.
When he mentioned this circumstance, she suddenly turned her head on the pillow so that her face was hidden from him, and he could see through the counterpane that the shivering, which he had observed when her illness had seized her in the morning, had returned again.
"I am only cold," she said, in a hurried way, with her face under the clothes.
He rang for the maid, and had a fresh covering placed on the bed.
Observing that she seemed unwilling to be disturbed, he did not remove the clothes from her face when he wished her goodnight, but pressed his lips on her head, and patted it gently with his hand.

She shrank at the touch as if it hurt her, light as it was, and he went downstairs, resolved to send for the doctor again if she did not get to rest on being left quiet.

In less than half an hour afterward the maid came down and relieved his anxiety by reporting that her mistress was asleep.
The next morning he found her in better spirits.

Her eyes, she said, felt too weak to bear the light, so she kept the bedroom darkened.