Buildings' miasma, was the favourite enlivenment of the disagreeing
doctors, in their brief intervals of repose in the stern conflict
which they were waging with the fever--a conflict in which they had
soon to strive by themselves, for the disease not only seized on
young Ward, but on his father; and till medical assistance was sent
from London, they had the whole town on their hands, and for nearly a
week lived without a night's rest.

The care of the sick was a still greater difficulty. Though Aubrey
was never in danger, and Dr. Spencer's promise of the effects of
'intelligent nursing' was fully realized, Ethel and Mary were so
occupied by him, that it was a fearful thing to guess how it must
fare with those households where the greater number were laid low,
and in want of all the comforts that could do little.

The clergy worked to the utmost; and a letter of Mr. Wilmot's
obtained the assistance of two ladies from a nursing sisterhood, who
not only worked incredible wonders with their own hands among the
poor, but made efficient nurses of rough girls and stupid old women.
Dr. May, who had at first, in his distrust of innovation, been averse
to the importation--as likely to have no effect but putting nonsense
into girls' heads, and worrying the sick poor--was so entirely
conquered, that he took off his hat to them across the street,
importuned them to drink tea with his daughters, and never came home
without dilating on their merits for the few minutes that intervened
between his satisfying himself about Aubrey and dropping asleep in
his chair. The only counter demonstration he reserved to himself was
that he always called them 'Miss What-d'ye-call-her,' and 'Those gems
of women,' instead of Sister Katherine and Sister Frances.