“On the tenth day she brought home Jock, smitten down after incessant exertion.  Everyone allows that he saved more cases than anyone, though he says it was the abatement of the disease.  Janet declares that his was a slight attack.  If that was slight!  She attended to him for two days, then told me the crisis was past and that he would live, and almost at the same time her strength failed her.  The last thing she said consciously to me was, ’Don’t waste time on me.  I know these symptoms.  Attend to Jock.  That is of use.  Only forgive and pray for me.’  Very soon she was insensible, and was gone before twenty-four hours were over.  The sister whom they spared to help me, said she was too much worn out to struggle and suffer like most, indeed as Jock had done.

“That Sister Dorothea, a true divine gift, a sweet and fair vision of peace, is a Miss Ashton, a Virginian.  She broke down, not with the disease, only fatigue, and I gave her such care as I could spare from my dear boy.  When her father, General Ashton, came to take her home, he kindly insisted on likewise carrying us off to his beautiful home, on a lovely hillside, where we trusted Jock’s strength would be restored quickly.  But perhaps we were too impatient, for the journey was far too much for him.  He fainted several times, and the last miles were passed in an unconscious state.  There has come back on him the intermittent fever which often succeeds the disease; and what is more alarming is the faintness, oppression, and difficulty of breathing, which he believes to be connected with the slight affection of heart remaining from his rheumatic fever at Schwarenbach.  Then it is very difficult to give him nourishment except disguised with ice, and he is altogether fearfully ill.  I send such an account of the case as I can get for John or Dr. Medlicott to see.  How I long for our kind home friends.  This place is unhappily very far from everywhere, a lone village in the hills; the nearest doctor twelve miles off.  The Ashtons think highly of him; but he is old, and I can’t say that I have any confidence in his treatment.  Jock allows that he should do otherwise, but he says he has no vigour or connection of ideas to be fit to treat himself consistently, and that he should only do harm by interfering with Dr. Vanbro; indeed I fear he thinks that it does not make much difference.  If patience and calmness can bring him through, he would live, but my dear Babie, I greatly dread that I shall not bring him back to the home he made so bright.  He seldom rouses into talking much, but lies passive and half dozing when the feverish restlessness is not on him.  He told me just now to send his love to you all, especially to the Monk and Sydney, with all dear good wishes to them both.  No one can be kinder than the Ashtons; they are always trying to help in the nursing, and sending for everything that can be thought of for Jock.  Sister Dorothea and Primrose are as good and loving as Sydney herself could be, and there is an excellent clergyman who comes in every day, and prays for my boy in Church.  Ask them to do the same at Fordham, and at our own Churches.  As long as I do not telegraph, remember that while there is life there is hope. 
                                      “Your loving Mother C.”