Rena's Experiment by Mary Jane Holmes

"Lord Harry! what am I to do, with fever in the house, and Giles gone and Miss Frye no more good than a setting hen, and I, who was never sick a day in my life worse than Mrs. Frye," Colin thought, as he stood looking at Rex, who seemed in a heavy sleep, although he kept muttering about the well, and the broken glass, and the letter, and the sick brother, and Claremont, and the will, which he said he was going to contest and break.

"Confound that will! It's bothering him to death," Colin thought, "and will until the thing is decided. I wonder if he posted the letter he was writing. If so that will settle it. Rex," he said, screaming as if the fever-tossed man, whose eyes were now wide open and staring at him, were deaf as a stone. "Have you sent the letter to Irene, you know?"