s tidings. But you were more prepared for them, I fancy, than
I was."

She started suddenly up, approached the window, and looked out, as if
she saw somebody passing whom she would gaze at. All of emotion was
stirred up within her--her temples throbbed, her throat beat, her breath
became hysterical. Could she bear thus to hold confidential converse
with him over the state of their child? She pulled off her gloves for
coolness to her burning hands, she wiped the moisture from her pale
forehead, she struggled manfully for calmness. What excuse could she
offer to Mr. Carlyle?

"I had begun to like the boy so very much, sir," she said, half turning
round. "And the doctor's fiat, too plainly pronounced has given me pain;
pain to agitation."

Again Mr. Carlyle approached her, following close up to where she stood.
"You are very kind, thus to feel an interest in my child."

She did not answer.

"Here, papa, papa! I want you," cried William, breaking into the room.
"Let me walk home with you? Are you going to walk?"

How could he find it in his heart to deny anything to the child then?

"Very well," he said. "Stay here till I come for you."

"We are going home with papa," proclaimed William to Madame Vine.

Madame Vine did not relish the news. But there was no help for it. In
a very short time Mr. Carlyle appeared, and they set off; he holding
William's hand; madame walking on the other side of the child.

"Where's William Vane, papa?" asked the boy.

"He has gone on with Lord Mount Severn."

Scarcely had the words been spoken, when some one came bolting out of
the post-office, and met them face to face; almost ran against them in
fact, creating some hindrance. The man looked confused, and slunk off
into the gutter. And you will not wonder that he did, when you hear that
it was Francis Levison. William, child like, turned his head to gaze at
the intruder.

"I would not be an ugly bad man like him for the world," quoth he, as he
turned his back again. "Would you, papa?"

Mr. Carlyle did not answer, and Isabel cast an involuntary glance
upon him from her white face. His was impassive, save that a cast of
ineffable scorn marred the delicate beauty of his lips. If humiliation
for the past had never wrung Lady Isabel's heart before, it would have
wrung it then.

At Mr. Justice Hare's gate they encountered that gentleman, who appeared
to be standing there to give himself an airing. William caught sight
of Mrs. Hare