as about seven o'clock that she resolved to go and dress for the party
to which she was bound, saying to herself that all hope was over for
that day--that she was not likely to hear from Hubert Lepel that night.

Just as she was going up-stairs a knock came to the door. She lingered
on the landing, wondering whether any visitor had come for her; and it
was with a great leap of the heart that she heard her own name
mentioned, and saw the maid running up the stairs to overtake her
before she reached her room.

"It's Jenkins--Mr. Lepel's man, miss," said Mary breathlessly; "and he
wants to know if he can speak to you for a moment."

Cynthia was half-way down-stairs before the sentence was out of the
girl's mouth. Jenkins was standing in the hall. He was an
amiable-looking fellow, and, although he had spoken flippantly enough to
Sabina Meldreth of his master's friendship for Miss West, he had a
genuine admiration for her. Cynthia had won his heart by kindly words
and looks; she had found out that he had a wife and some young children,
and had made them presents, and visited the new baby in her own
inimitably frank, gracious, friendly way; and Jenkins was secretly of
opinion that his master could not do better than marry Miss Cynthia
West, although she was but a singer after all. He spoke to her with an
air of great deference.

"I beg your pardon, ma'am; but I thought that I'd better come and tell
you about Mr. Lepel."

"Have you a message--a note?" cried Cynthia eagerly.

"No, ma'am. Mr. Lepel's not able to write, nor to send messages. Mr.
Lepel's ill in bed, ma'am, and the doctor's afraid that it is
brain-fever."

Cynthia gasped a little.

"I thought he--he must be ill," she said, rather to herself than to
Jenkins, who however heard, and was struck with sympathetic emotion
immediately.

"I thought you'd think so, ma'am; and therefore I made so bold as to
look round," he said respectfully. "He's not been himself, so to speak,
for the last few days; and when his sister--Mrs. Vane--was up from
Beechfield to see him, he seemed took worse; and Mrs. Vane she sent me
for a doctor."

"Is Mrs. Vane with him now, then?" Cynthia asked quickly.

"No, ma'am. She did not stop long; but I expect that she'll be round
either to-night or to-morrow morning."

"And is Mr. Lepel to have nobody to nurse him?" asked Cynthia
indignantly.

"There's my wife, ma'am, who is used to nursing; and, if my master is
worse, a trained nurs