With the slow but progressive advance towards convalescence of poor Ella, began one of her most difficult trials. She had hitherto been able to bear no other fatigue than that of being conveyed, for an hour at a time, from her bed to the sofa. But the moment was approaching when she would probably be removed, during a part of the day, into the adjoining dressing room; and then she well knew her uncle, Lady Ormond, and Mr. Fitzmaurice would be solicitous to see her, and with them would undoubtedly come – Ernest! How should she find courage to endure his sight? The very idea of looking at, of hearing / him, of being compelled to speak to him, had such an effect upon her, that whenever she dwelt upon it, symptoms of returning fever betrayed themselves, and fresh fears took possession of her mother and sister.

At length, the safe and simple expedient suggested itself, of entreating them to tell Ernest, in her name, that with his sight would be associated so many overpowering recollections, that till she had recovered more strength it would be better they should not meet. It was a message no one was surprised at. Seen so continually together – their age the same – their footing in the family so nearly equal, that it was difficult to distinguish the appointed heir from the young protégé, – Frederic and Ernest might have been considered as brothers; and, as Ella had justly observed, it was impossible to behold the one without recurring mentally to the other. Ernest himself was sensible of this truth, and submitted with a sigh to his exclusion.

Time passed on, and Ella's indefatigable nurses had the consolation of seeing their cares productive, under Providence, of all the benefit they could rationally hope for.