His smile was rather nice, so Jemima might have been reassured by it; at least, if she had not been quite busy being disappointed. Not that she wanted to be pronounced terminal with consumption or to have to face up to some ungainly affliction like spattergroit, ugh, but – nerves? Nerves?
Jemima wished her mother had not wrangled the nurse into an enthusiastic conversation about muggle medical equipment just beyond the door, because she could use something clever to say right about now, like actually I think there must be something both more serious and more straightforwardly solvable than that, sir.
Or, no, of course she is not prone to worries regarding her health, she is a perfectly normal young lady, sir. And very marriageable, in case you have not noticed.
“But – if that is so,” Jemima began hesitantly, “what am I to do about the – the nerves?” She had thought the nerves a mere symptom, not the root cause! How was she expected to banish them, just like that? Surely there had to be a cure.
Jemima wished her mother had not wrangled the nurse into an enthusiastic conversation about muggle medical equipment just beyond the door, because she could use something clever to say right about now, like actually I think there must be something both more serious and more straightforwardly solvable than that, sir.
Or, no, of course she is not prone to worries regarding her health, she is a perfectly normal young lady, sir. And very marriageable, in case you have not noticed.
“But – if that is so,” Jemima began hesitantly, “what am I to do about the – the nerves?” She had thought the nerves a mere symptom, not the root cause! How was she expected to banish them, just like that? Surely there had to be a cure.
