-can we?
But I have seen it now, father."

As he went into the City, about an hour after his proper time, he
allowed his heart to rejoice at the future prospects of his girl. He
did now believe that there would be a marriage between her and her
noble lover. She had declared her love to him,--to him, her father,
and after that she would surely do as they would have her. Something
had reached even his ears of the coyness of girls, and it was not
displeasing to him that his girl had not been at once ready to give
herself with her easy promise to her lover. How strong she had
looked, even in the midst of her sufferings, on the previous evening!
That she should be weaker this morning, less able to restrain her
tears, more prone to tremble as he spoke to her, was but natural. The
shock of the grief will often come after the sorrow is over. He knew
that, and told himself that there need be nothing,--need not at least
be much,--to fear.

But it was not so with Marion as she lay all the morning convulsed
almost with the violence of her emotions. Her own weakness was
palpable to herself, as she struggled to regain her breath, struggled
to repress her sobs, struggled to move about the house, and be as
might be any other girl. "Better just lie thee down till thy father
return, and leave me to bustle through the work," said the old Quaker
woman who had lived with them through all their troubles. Then Marion
yielded, and laid herself on the bed till the hour had come in which
her father might be expected.

CHAPTER XX.

NEVER, NEVER, TO COME AGAIN.

The trouble to Hampstead occasioned by the accident was considerable,
as was also for the first twenty-four hours his anxiety and that of
his sister as to the young man's fate. He got back to Gorse Hall
early in the day, as there was no more hunting after the killing of
that first fox. There had been a consultation as to the young man,
and it had been held to be best to have him taken to the inn at which
he had been living, as there would be room there for any of his
friends who might come to look after him. But during the whole of
that day inquiries were made at Gorse Hall after Lord Hampstead
himself, so general had been the belief that he was the victim.
From all the towns around, from Peterborough, Oundle, Stilton, and
Thrapstone, there came mounted messengers, with expressions of hope
and condolence as to the young lord's broken bones.

And then the condition of their