Alice Wilde: The Raftsman's Daughter — page 49: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

FEVER—DELIRIUM. : AS had that skill picked up by the necessity of being doctors to all accidents and diseases around them; and they exerted themselves to the utmost for their unfortunate young guest. Then it was that Mr. Wilde found where the heart of his little girl had gone astray; and cursed himself for his folly in exposing her to a danger go probable. Yet, as he looked at her sweet face, worn with watching and trouble, he could not but believe that the hand of the proudest aristocrat on earth was none too good for her, and that Philip would recognize her beauty and worth. If she must love, and be married, he would more willingly resign her to Philip Moore than to any other man. Alice lacked experience as a nuise, but she fol- lowed every motion of the good old colored woman, and stood ready to interfere where she could be of any use. Sitting hour after hour by Philip’s bedside, changing the wet cloths constantly to keep them cool, she heard words from his delirious lips which added still dato to her despair— fond, passionate words, addressed not to her, but to some be- loved woman, some beautiful “ Virginia,” now far away, un- conscious of her lover’s danger, while to her fell the sad pleas- ure of attending upon him. “Oh, that he may live, and not die by the hand of an as- sassin, so innocent a victim to a needless jealousy. Oh, that he may live to save this Virginia, whoever she may be, from the fate of a hopeless mourner. It will be joy enough for me to save his life,’ she cried to herself. The crisis passed ; the flush of fever was succeeded by the languor and pallor of extreme prostration; but the young man’s constitution was excellent, and he recovered. rapidly. Then how it pleased Pallas to cook him tempting dishes ; and how it pleased Alice to see the appetite with which he disposed of them. Women love to serve those who are dear to them; no service can be so homely or so small that their enthusiasm does not exalt it. Yet the stronger Philip grew, the more heavily pressed a cold horror upon the soul of Alice. Ben Perkins had not been to the house since the wounded man was brought into it; and when Alice would have asked her father of his where- abouts, her lips refused to form his name. She hoped that he had fled; but then she knew that if he had disappeared, her comilceoooks.c©