soon there was no question of her
going abroad. At the last moment Sir John grew frightened, as bullies
are apt to do, and on receipt of an indignant letter from Lord
Lynfield, now an old man, who had been informed of the facts by his
grand-daughter, offered to send his wife to Egypt, or anywhere else.
Again the doctors were called in to report, and told him with brutal
frankness that if their advice had been taken when it was first given,
probably she would have lived for some years. As it was, it was
impossible for her to travel, since the exertion might cause her death
upon the journey, especially if she became seasick.

This verdict came to Isobel's knowledge as the first had done. Indeed,
in his confusion, emphasized by several glasses of port, her father
blurted it out himself.

"I wonder whether you will ever be sorry," was her sole comment.

Then she sat down to watch her mother die, and to think. Could there be
any good God, she wondered, if He allowed such things to happen. Poor
girl! it was her first experience of the sort, and as yet she did not
know what things are allowed to happen in this world in obedience to
the workings of unalterable laws by whoever and for whatever purpose
these may be decreed.

Being ignorant, however, and still very young and untaught of life, she
could not be expected to take these large views, or to guess at the
Hand of Mercy which holds the cup of human woes. She saw her mother
fading away because of her father's obstinacy and self-seeking, and it
was inconceivable to her that such an unnecessary thing could be
allowed by a gentle and loving Providence. Therefore, she turned her
back on Providence, as many a strong soul has done before her,
rejecting it for the reason that she could not understand.

Had she but guessed, this attitude of hers, which could not be
concealed entirely in the case of a nature so frank, was the bitterest
drop in her mother's draught of death. She, poor gentle creature, made
no complaints, but only excuses for her husband's conduct. Nor, save
for Isobel's sake did she desire to live. Her simple faith upbore her
through the fears of departure, and assured her of forgiveness for all
errors, and of happiness beyond in a land where there was one at least
whom she wished to meet.

"I won't try to argue with you, because I am not wise enough to
understand such things," she said to Isobel, "but I wish, dearest, that
you would not be so certain as to mat