Two delightful twilight walks on the third and fourth evenings of her being there, not merely on the dry gravel of the shrubbery, but all over the grounds, and especially in the most distant parts of them, where there was something more of wildness than in the rest, where the trees were the oldest, and the grass was the longest and wettest, had -- assisted by the still greater imprudence of sitting in her wet shoes and stockings -- given Marianne a cold so violent, as, though for a day or two trifled with or denied, would force itself by increasing ailments on the concern of everybody, and the notice of herself. Prescriptions poured in from all quarters, and as usual were all declined. Though heavy and feverish, with a pain in her limbs, a cough, and a sore throat, a good night's rest was to cure her entirely; and it was with difficulty that Elinor prevailed on her, when she went to bed, to try one or two of the simplest of the remedies.
Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Much like Marianne Dashwood, a recent brush with nature left me fighting a beastly cold. I apologize for the lack of updates, but hope to be restored to life, health, friends, and posting soon. In the meantime, if you haven't read S&S, you simply must.
