Good Heavens, dear child. What sort of fit is this?
I can assure you we meant no harm… we hardly uttered a word; I don’t know exactly what the matter is. Are you feeling ill?
I did not know Dorothea was reading this text along with me, let alone you as well, dear. I thought you to be busy with your little one, you know, that’s all I’ve heard you speak of in these days. No need to get so passionate over such readings, Celia. It will not do well for your health.
I suggest you rest—
I shall send for Dr. Lydgate to check on you.

Love,
Uncle

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