nce she could see whether the lights were out in Dr. Spencer's
house. Yes, they were.

'Never mind. It will make no real odds, and he has had enough on his
hands to-day. The boy will sleep quietly enough to-night, so let us
all go to bed.'

'I think I can get a mattress into his room without waking him, if you
will help me, Mary,' said Ethel.

'Nonsense,' said her father, decidedly. 'Mary is not to go near him
before she takes Gertrude to Cocksmoor; and you, go to your own bed and
get a night's rest while you can.'

'You won't stay up, papa.'

'I--why, it is all I can do not to fall asleep on my feet. Good night,
children.'

'He does not trust himself to think or to fear,' said Ethel. 'Too much
depends on him to let himself be unstrung.'

'But, Ethel, you will not leave, dear Aubrey.'

'I shall keep his door open and mine; but papa is right, and it will
not do to waste one's strength. In case I should not see you before
you go--'

'Oh, but, Ethel, I shall come back! Don't, pray don't tell me to stay
away. Richard will have to keep away for Daisy's sake, and you can't
do all alone--nurse Aubrey and attend to papa. Say that I may come
back.'

Well, Mary, I think you might,' said Ethel, after a moment's thought.
'If it were only Aubrey, I could manage for him; but I am more anxious
about papa.'

'You don't think he is going to have it?'

'Oh no, no,' said Ethel, 'he is what he calls himself, a seasoned
vessel; but he will be terribly overworked, and unhappy, and he must
not come home and find no one to talk to or to look cheerful. So,
Mary, unless he gives any fresh orders, or Richard thinks it will only
make things worse, I shall be very glad of you.'

Mary had never clung to her so gratefully, nor felt so much honoured.
'Do you think he will have it badly?' she asked timidly.

'I don't think at all about it,' said Ethel, something in her father's
manner. 'If we are to get through all this, Mary, it must not be by
riding out on perhapses. Now let us put Daisy's things together, for
she must have as little communication with home as possible.'

Ethel silently and rapidly moved about, dreading to give an interval
for tremblings of heart. Five years of family prosperity had passed,
and there had been that insensible feeling of peace and immunity from
care which is strange to look back upon when one hour has drifted from
smooth water to turbid currents. There was a sort of awe in seeing the