I had to rise, and, dizzy and sick as I felt, to huddle on my clothes and go down stairs, utterly horrified at such inhuman treatment.

Mrs Nash even expected, now I was up, I should go to the office; but this I positively declared I could not do, and was therefore permitted to make myself as comfortable as I could in the cheerless parlour, and there wait for the further development of my malady.
Towards mid-day I began to feel hungry, but dared not ask Mrs Nash for anything; it would be so unlike an invalid.

But I rang the bell and implored her to send for a doctor, which she finally promised to do.
In the interval I began to feel more and more like myself.

It was very aggravating, to be sure! Unless he came quickly the doctor would hardly think me ill at all.

And yet I _must_ be ill, even though it cost an effort! When the doctor did arrive I did my best, by putting on a pained expression of countenance, by breathing rather hard and closing my eyes occasionally, to make him feel he had not come for nothing.