Phoebe were alarmed.
Philip was at the corner-house. Mrs Rowland was gone to see Miss
Young, to convince her that she must put herself into Mr Walcot's hands
immediately--to declare, indeed, that she should send her own medical
man to attend her dear children's governess. The argument occupied some
time, and Mrs Rowland's absence was protracted. Mrs Enderby had been
extremely terrified, the evening before, at the noises she had heard,
and the light of the bonfire upon the sky. The children were permitted
to carry to her all the extravagant reports that were afloat about Mr
Hope being roasted in the fire, the ladies being in the hands of the
mob, and so forth; and though her son-in-law had seen her before she
settled for the night, and had assured her that everybody was safe, she
could not be tranquillised. She thought he was deceiving her for her
good, and that the children were probably nearest the truth. She was
unable to close her eyes, and in the middle of the night told Phoebe
that she could not be satisfied--she should not have a moment's peace--
till she had seen some one of the dear people from the corner-house, to
know from themselves that they were quite safe. Phoebe had found it
difficult to persuade her that it was now two o'clock in the morning,
and that they were all, no doubt, sleeping in their beds. She passed a
wretched night; and the next day, after Philip had succeeded in
composing her, a strange gentleman was brought to her to prescribe for
her. This revived her terrors. She said she would ask no more
questions, for all were in league to deceive her. Then she cried
because, she had said so harsh a thing, and begged that Phoebe would not
expose it. Her weeping continued till Phoebe's heart was almost broken.
The infallible drops failed; arrowroot was in vain; the children were
sent away as soon as they came in, as it would hurt their spirits, their
mother thought, to see distress of this kind. In the afternoon quiet
was prescribed by the authorities, and the old lady was left alone with
Phoebe. To the weeping succeeded the spasms, so violent that little
George was despatched with all speed to summon his uncle, and Mr Walcot
was called away from crossing the ends of his letter. No one but he
proposed sending for Mrs Rowland; and his hint to that effect was not
taken.

Philip arrived in a shorter time than could have been supposed possible.
Mr Rowland then immediately disappeared. He had