ded Mr. Checkynshaw; and there was something in his manner which
disturbed the fair girl.

"Is he there now?"

"Yes, I think he is. My people will take good care of him."

"Why, what do you mean, sir?" demanded Maggie. "Take good care of him?"

"He had an ill turn this afternoon."

"My father!" exclaimed Maggie.

"I sent for the doctor, and he has had good care," added the banker, as
soothingly as he could speak, which, however, was not saying much.

"What ails him?"

"Well, it was an attack of apoplexy, paralysis, or something of that
kind."

"My poor father!" ejaculated Maggie, her eyes filling with tears. "I
must go to him at once."

Maggie took down her cloak and hood, and put them on.

CHAPTER VII.

MON PERE.

Maggie's ideas of apoplexy or paralysis were not very definite, and she
only understood that something very terrible had happened to her
foster-father, whom she loved as though he had been her real parent.
Leo was hardly less affected, though, being a boy, his susceptibility
was not so keen. His first feeling was one of indignation that the
banker had not told him before of the misfortune which had overtaken
the family. It was cruel to have kept Maggie from her father a single
moment longer than was necessary.

"Where is poor father now?" asked Maggie, as she adjusted her hood, and
wiped the tears from her eyes.

"He is at my house; but you need not worry about him," replied Mr.
Checkynshaw. "The doctor has attended to his case, and he shall have
everything he needs."

"Where do you live, sir?" asked Leo.

"No.--Pemberton Square."

"Come, Maggie, we will go to him," added the boy.

"I want you to go with me, and show me where Fitz lives," interposed
the banker.

"He lives at No.--Atkinson Street, up the court," answered Leo, rather
coolly, as he picked up his cap and comforter.

"I want you to show me the house."

"I must go with Maggie."

Mr. Checkynshaw looked as though the barber's serious illness was of no
consequence, compared with his affairs.

"We can go that way, Leo, and you can show him the house as we pass
through Atkinson Street," said Maggie, leading the way to the door.

This arrangement was satisfactory to the banker; the house was locked,
and Leo led the way out of the court. The humble abode of Mrs.
Wittleworth was pointed out to Mr. Checkynshaw; and, after he had been
admitted, Leo and Maggie hastened to Pemberton Square, so sad and
sorrowful that h