Keenly sensitive, grief and suspense made him unusually
irritable; and he seemed to have no power of waiting patiently, and
trusting the event to wiser Hands.

Mrs. Ponsonby dared not entertain any such ardent wishes. Life had not
afforded her so much joy that she should deem it the greatest good, and
all that she had heard gave her the impression that Louis was too soft
and gentle for the world's hard encounter,--most pure and innocent,
sincere and loving at present, but rather with the qualities of
childhood than of manhood, with little strength or perseverance, so
that the very dread of taint or wear made it almost a relief to think
of his freshness and sweetness being secured for ever. Even when she
thought of his father, and shrank from such grief for him, she could
not but see a hope that this affliction might soften the heart closed
up by the first and far worse sorrow, and detach it from the interests
that had absorbed it too exclusively. All this was her food for silent
meditation. Mary sat reading or working beside her, paler perhaps than
her wont, and betraying that her ear caught every sound on the stairs,
but venturing no word except the most matter-of-fact remark, quietly
giving force to the more favourable symptoms.

Not till after Mr. Walby's second visit, when there was a little
respite in the hard life-and-death contest between the remedies and the
inflammation, could Mrs. Frost spare a few moments for her grandson.
She met him on the stairs--threw her arms round his neck, called him
her poor Jemmy, and hastily told him that he must not make her cry. He
looked anxiously in her face, and told her that he must take her place,
for she was worn out.'

'No, thank you, my dear, I can rest by-and-by.'

It sounded very hopeless.

'Come, granny, you always take the bright side.'

'Who knows which is the bright side?' she said. 'Such as he are always
the first. But there, dear Jem, I told you not to make too much of
granny--' and hastily withdrawing her hand, she gave a parting caress
to his hair as he stood on the step below her, and returned to her
charge.

It would have been an inexpressible comfort to James to have had some
one to reproach. His own wretchedness was like a personal injury, and
an offence that he could resent would have been a positive relief. He
was forced to get out of the way of Frampton coming up with a tray of
lemonade, and glared at him, as if even a station on the sta