on me, I was surprised by an almost sudden change in Mr.
Bernard. I had gone up in the morning, expecting to find him in his
dressing-room, which, as you see, enters as well from the lobby as by a
door from the parlour, where breakfast was served. As I proceeded along
the passage, I saw my lady hurrying away, with her handkerchief over her
eyes, and her right hand held up, as if she were addressing Heaven; then
deep sobs came from her, and a groan, which burst from the heart as she
turned away into the west angle, sounded through the long lobbies and
corridors. Master was not in his dressing-room. I heard his voice
calling me from his bed-room, and I started at the sound, so unlike his
utterance--so deep, heart-ridden, and agonized. On entering, I found him
in his morning gown, sitting in that chair; his head thrown back, and
his eyes fixed on my lady Lillah's portrait. It seemed, also, as if
Amelia could not rest in the room in the west angle, where I thought I
had seen her hurrying. Her foot was distinctly heard as she passed again
along the lobby, which stretches along to the east tower, and passes
this room, where my master and I were. A succession of groans followed,
and died away as she receded. Mr. Bernard was too much occupied by some
heart-stupefying thought to heed these sounds, and I stood before him
not knowing what to say, far less what to do. At length he held up his
hands, and placing one on my arm, said, in a voice which seemed the
sound of one choking:--

"'Francis, you are an old friend, not a servant--not now at least. I
trust you. The house of Redcleugh is doomed, nor shall a Bernard be ever
again happy within its walls.'

"'What is wrong, master?' I inquired.

"'The core,' said he; 'the master's heart. I must go to the East again.
There may be peace there for me; here, in my father's house, there is
none. But what shall become of Caleb and Mira?'

"My heart was too full to answer, and still Amelia's groans came from
the passages, changing and changing, like the voice of a restless
spirit. My master rose, and, folding his arms, paced along the room. His
brow was knit tight as the muscles would draw. He seemed to contract his
arms, as if to compress his heart--nor did a word escape from him. A
thought seized me, that, like the older Bernards, he was under a fit of
alienation. I made for the door, to seek my lady Amelia, and even in her
agonies to consult her what was to be done. My master seized me