s an
evident effort to command attention.

When the visit was over, and the surgeon was taking leave after the
consultation, Fitzjocelyn calmly desired to know his opinion, and kept
his eyes steadily fixed on his face, weighing the import of each word.
All depended on the subduing the inflammatory action, in the side; and
there was every reason to hope that he would have strength for the
severe treatment necessary. There was no reason to despond.

'I understand--thank you,' said Louis.

He shut his eyes, and lay so still that Mrs. Frost trusted that he
slept; but when his father came in, they were open, and Lord
Ormersfield, bending over him, hoped he was in less pain.

'Thank you, there is not much difference.' But the plaintive sound was
gone, the suffering was not the sole thought.

'Walby is coming with the leeches at two o'clock,' said Lord
Ormersfield: 'I reckon much on them.'

'Thank you.' Silence again, but his face spoke a wish, and his aunt
Catharine said, 'What, my dear?'

'I should like to see Mr. Holdsworth,' said Louis, with eyes appealing
to his father.

'He has been here to inquire every day,' said the Earl, choosing
neither to refuse nor understand. 'Whenever it is not too much for
you--'

'It must be quickly, before I am weaker,' said Louis. 'Let it be
before Walby returns, father.'

'Whatever you wish, my dear--' and Lord Ormersfield, turning towards
the table, wrote a note, which Mrs. Frost offered to despatch, thinking
that her presence oppressed her elder nephew, who looked bowed down by
the intensity of grief, which, unexpressed, seemed to pervade the whole
man and weigh him to the earth: and perhaps this also struck Louis for
the first time, for, after having lain silent for some minutes, he
softly said, 'Father!'

The Earl was instantly beside him, but, instead of speaking, Louis
gazed in his face, and sighed, as he murmured, 'I was meant to have
been a comfort to you.'

'My dear boy--' began Lord Ormersfield, but he could not trust his
voice, as he saw Louis's eyes moist with tears.

'I wish I had!' he continued; 'but I have never been anything but a
care and vexation, and I see it all too late.'

'Nay, Louis,' said his father, trying to assume his usual tone of
authority, as if to prove his security, 'you must not give way to
feelings of illness. It is weak to despond.'

'It is best to face it,' said the young man, with slow and feeble
utterance, but with no quailing