ople much, but if
Agatha could go--Oh, there you are, Uncle Brian! Duke sent a message to
you. He says, he is afraid it will be some days before you can see your
old friend Anne: she is very ill indeed."

Brian stood silent, resting his hand on the glass-door. The colourless
face, void of any expression, excepting the eyes, and they--never, while
she lived, did Agatha forget the look of those eyes! She whispered,
passing him by,

"I am going to her now--I shall send word soon;" and left the room.

There was a slight difficulty about her being driven to Thornhurst, as
she insisted on her husband's keeping quiet at home. Harrie made a
dozen plans and counter-plans, until they were all frustrated by Brian
Harper's rising from the corner, where he had sat motionless.

"If you will allow me, I will drive you there."

"Thank you." There was no more said about it; they started.

Mr. Locke Harper scarcely spoke to his niece all the way, until just
as they were passing the gate where, on that awful walk, Agatha had
startled Mrs. Dugdale.

"I hear you came all these miles on foot, in the middle of the night. It
was a very brave thing for a woman to do. I did not think any woman
could have love enough in her to do it."

"I know several who would do much more."

"Who are they?"

"Harrie Dugdale, probably; and for certain, Anne Valery."

Brian said no more until they reached the gates of Thornhurst. There
he helped her to descend, reins in hand, and waited. Just as Agatha was
going he touched her arm:

"Ask how she is, will you?"

Agatha sent the message up-stairs, and remained with him for a minute
or two. He stood motionless by the horse, his hat pulled down over his
brows--nothing visible but the sharp profile of his mouth. Old Andrews
called him "that gentleman"--eyed him with some curiosity, then bowed,
and wished him a "merry Christmas, sir," country fashion.

The answer about the mistress of Thornhurst was brief; she was "much the
same;" the servants did not seem to apprehend any danger.

Brian shook his niece's hand. "I shall go back across the moors to
Kingcombe. Tell her, if, at any time, she would like to see an old
friend"--

He stopped, threw down Dunce's reins, and started off towards the high
ground, striding over heather and furze, with his free backwoodsman's
step.

Andrews looked after him. "If that be any man alive it be Mr. Locke
Harper! O Lord! and I didn't know 'un--my dear old master! Mr.