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Автор: Mary Shelley

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This was the commencement of a nervous fever which confined me
for several months. During all that time Henry was my only nurse.
I afterwards learned that, knowing my father's advanced age and
unfitness for so long a journey, and how wretched my sickness
would make Elizabeth, he spared them this grief by concealing the
extent of my disorder. He knew that I could not have a more kind
and attentive nurse than himself; and, firm in the hope he felt
of my recovery, he did not doubt that, instead of doing harm, he
performed the kindest action that he could towards them.

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