would sit up, Graeme--though I told you not--and so I came
home."

"Of course, you did right to come home. But hush, Harry! you will waken
Will."

"Oh! yes! Poor Will!" he mumbled. "But Graeme, what ails you, that you
look at me with a face like that?"

"Miss Elliott," entreated Charlie, "leave him to us, you can do nothing
with him to-night."

She went up-stairs before them carrying the light, and held firmly the
handle of Will's door till they passed. She stood there in the darkness
till they came out again and went down-stairs. Poor Harry lay muttering
and mumbling, entreating Graeme to come and see him before she went to
bed. When she heard the door close she went down again, not into the
parlour where a light still burned, but into the darkness of the room
beyond.

"Oh Harry! Harry! Harry!" she cried, as she sank on her knees and
covered her face.

It was a dark hour. Her hope, her faith, her trust in God--all that had
been her strength and song, from day to day was forgotten. The bitter
waters of fear and grief passed over her, and she was well nigh
overwhelmed.

"Oh papa! mamma! Oh Harry! Oh! my little brothers."

"Miss Elliott," said a voice that made her heart stand still, "Graeme,
you must let me help you now."

She rose and turned toward him.

"Mr Ruthven! I was not aware--" said she, moving toward the door
through which light came from the parlour.

"Miss Elliott, forgive me. I did not mean to intrude. I met your
brother and mine by chance, and I came with them. You must not think
that I--"

"Thank you, you are very kind."

Graeme was trembling greatly and sat down, but rose again immediately.

"You are very kind," repeated she, scarcely knowing what she said.

"Graeme," said Mr Ruthven, "you must let me help you in this matter.
Tell me what you wish. Must Harry stay or go?"

Graeme sank down with a cry, wringing her hands.

"Oh! Harry! Harry!"

Mr Ruthven made one step toward her.

"Miss Elliott, I dare not say to you that you think too severely of
Harry's fault. But he is young, and I do not really fear for him. And
you have more cause to be hopeful than I. Think of your father, and
your father's God. Graeme, be sure Harry will come back to you again."

Graeme sat still with her head bowed down.

"Graeme--Miss Elliott. Tell me what you would have me do?"

Graeme rose.

"You are very kind," she repeated. "I cannot think to-night. We must
wait--till A