be with her and not find out that she
was a Jewess.

Rex, who had no partisanship with the Israelites, having made a
troublesome acquaintance with the minutiae of their ancient history in
the form of "cram," was amusing himself by playfully exaggerating the
notion of each speaker, while Anna begged them all to understand that
he was only joking, when the laughter was interrupted by the bringing
in of a letter for Mrs. Davilow. A messenger had run with it in great
haste from the rectory. It enclosed a telegram, and as Mrs. Davilow
read and re-read it in silence and agitation, all eyes were turned on
her with anxiety, but no one dared to speak. Looking up at last and
seeing the young faces "painted with fear," she remembered that they
might be imagining something worse than the truth, something like her
own first dread which made her unable to understand what was written,
and she said, with a sob which was half relief--

"My dears, Mr. Grandcourt--" She paused an instant, and then began
again, "Mr. Grandcourt is drowned."

Rex started up as if a missile had been suddenly thrown into the room.
He could not help himself, and Anna's first look was at him. But then,
gathering some self-command while Mrs. Davilow was reading what the
rector had written on the enclosing paper, he said--

"Can I do anything, aunt? Can I carry any word to my father from you?"

"Yes, dear. Tell him I will be ready--he is very good. He says he will
go with me to Genoa--he will be here at half-past six. Jocosa and
Alice, help me to get ready. She is safe--Gwendolen is safe--but she
must be ill. I am sure she must be very ill. Rex, dear--Rex and
Anna--go and and tell your father I will be quite ready. I would not
for the world lose another night. And bless him for being ready so
soon. I can travel night and day till we get there."

Rex and Anna hurried away through the sunshine which was suddenly
solemn to them, without uttering a word to each other: she chiefly
possessed by solicitude about any reopening of his wound, he struggling
with a tumultuary crowd of thoughts that were an offence against his
better will. The tumult being undiminished when they were at the
rectory gate, he said--

"Nannie, I will leave you to say everything to my father. If he wants
me immediately, let me know. I shall stay in the shrubbery for ten
minutes--only ten minutes."

Who has been quite free from egoistic escapes of the imagination,
picturing desirable cons