his health.

"Indeed, I wish you would remonstrate with your papa, Frank," said his
stepmother, who was not a great deal older than the Curate. "After his
attack he ought to be more careful. But he never takes the least
trouble about himself, no more than if he were five-and-twenty. After
getting such a knock on the forehead too; and you see he eats nothing.
I shall be miserable if the doctor is not sent for to-night."

"Stuff!" cried the Squire, testily. "Perhaps you will speak to the cook
about these messes she insists on sending up to disgust one, and leave
me to take care of my own health. Don't touch that dish, Frank; it's
poison. I am glad Gerald is not here: he'd think we never had a dinner
without that confounded mixture. And then the wonder is that one can't
eat!" said Mr Wentworth, in a tone which spread consternation round the
table. Mrs Wentworth secretly put her handkerchief to her eyes behind
the great cover, which had not yet been removed; and one of the girls
dashed in violently to the rescue, of course making everything worse.

"Why did not Gerald and Louisa come to dinner?" cried the ignorant
sister. "Surely, when they knew Frank had come, they would have liked to
be here. How very odd it was of you not to ask them, papa! they always
do come when anybody has arrived. Why aren't they here to-night?"

"Because they don't choose to come," said the Squire, abruptly. "If
Gerald has reasons for staying away from his father's house, what is
that to you? Butterflies," said Mr Wentworth, looking at them in their
pretty dresses, as they sat regarding him with dismay, "that don't
understand any reason for doing anything except liking it or not liking
it. I daresay by this time your sister knows better."

"My sister is married, papa," said Letty, with her saucy look.

"I advise you to get married too, and learn what life is like," said the
savage Squire; and conversation visibly flagged after this effort. When
the ladies got safely into the drawing-room, they gathered into a corner
to consult over it. They were all naturally anxious about him after his
"attack."

"Don't you remember he was just like this before it came on?" said Mrs
Wentworth, nervously; "so cross, and finding fault with the made dishes.
Don't you think I might send over a message to Dr Small--not to come on
purpose, you know, but just as if it were a call in passing?"

But the girls both agreed this would make matters worse.

"It must b