e two girls flew at him
with questions; while Lady Clara stood by the window, anxious to
learn, but unwilling to thrust herself into their family matters.

"My father has been much troubled to-day, and is not well," said
Herbert. "But I do not think there is anything to frighten us. Come;
let us go to dinner."

The going to dinner was but a sorry farce with any of them; but
nevertheless, they went through the ceremony, each for the sake of
the others.

"Mayn't we see him?" said the girls to their mother, who did come
down into the drawing-room for one moment to speak to Clara.

"Not to-night, loves. He should not be disturbed." And so that day
came to an end; not satisfactorily.

CHAPTER IX.

FAMILY COUNCILS.

When the girls and Aunt Letty went to their chambers that night,
Herbert returned to his mother's own dressing-room, and there, seated
over the fire with her, discussed the matter of his father's sudden
attack. He had been again with his father, and Sir Thomas had seemed
glad to have him there; but now he had left him for the night.

"He will sleep now, mother," said the son; "he has taken laudanum."

"I fear he takes that too often now."

"It was good for him to have it to-night. He did not get too much,
for I dropped it for him." And then they sat silent for a few moments
together.

"Mother," said Herbert, "who can this man have been?"

"I have no knowledge--no idea--no guess even," said Lady Fitzgerald.

"It is that man's visit that has upset him."

"Oh, certainly. I think there is no doubt of that. I was waiting for
the man to go, and went in almost before he was out of the house."

"Well?"

"And I found your father quite prostrated."

"Not on the floor?"

"No, not exactly on the floor. He was still seated on his chair, but
his head was on the table, over his arms."

"I have often found him in that way, mother."

"But you never saw him looking as he looked this morning, Herbert.
When I went in he was speechless, and he remained so, I should say,
for some minutes."

"Was he senseless?"

"No; he knew me well enough, and grasped me by the hand; and when I
would have gone to the bell to ring for assistance, he would not let
me. I thought he would have gone into a fit when I attempted it."

"And what did you do?"

"I sat there by him, with his hand in mine, quite quietly. And then
he uttered a long, deep sigh, and--oh, Herbert!"

"Well, mother?"

"At last, he burst into a