Anne Bronte: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

47. CHAPTER XLVII (continued)

The invalid only replied by groaning aloud, and rolling his head on a pillow in a paroxysm of impatience.

'I am in hell, already!' cried he. 'This cursed thirst is burning my heart to ashes! Will nobody -?'

Before he could finish the sentence I had poured out a glass of some acidulated, cooling drink that was on the table, and brought it to him. He drank it greedily, but muttered, as I took away the glass, - 'I suppose you're heaping coals of fire on my head, you think?'

Not noticing this speech, I asked if there was anything else I could do for him.

'Yes; I'll give you another opportunity of showing your Christian magnanimity,' sneered he: 'set my pillow straight, and these confounded bed-clothes.' I did so. 'There: now get me another glass of that slop.' I complied. 'This is delightful, isn't it?' said he with a malicious grin, as I held it to his lips; 'you never hoped for such a glorious opportunity?'

'Now, shall I stay with you?' said I, as I replaced the glass on the table: 'or will you be more quiet if I go and send the nurse?'

'Oh, yes, you're wondrous gentle and obliging! But you've driven me mad with it all!' responded he, with an impatient toss.

'I'll leave you, then,' said I; and I withdrew, and did not trouble him with my presence again that day, except for a minute or two at a time, just to see how he was and what he wanted.

Next morning the doctor ordered him to be bled; and after that he was more subdued and tranquil. I passed half the day in his room at different intervals. My presence did not appear to agitate or irritate him as before, and he accepted my services quietly, without any bitter remarks: indeed, he scarcely spoke at all, except to make known his wants, and hardly then. But on the morrow, that is to say, in proportion as he recovered from the state of exhaustion and stupefaction, his ill-nature appeared to revive.