d Averil, and starting forward, she cried, 'Dr. May, Dr.
May, you will save him! He is fatherless and motherless, and his
brother has always been harsh to him; but you will not forsake him; you
said you would be a father to us! Oh, save Leonard!'

'My dear, as I would try to save my own son, I will do my utmost for
him; but little or nothing depends on me or on any man. By truth and
justice he must stand or fall; and you must depend on the Father of the
fatherless, who seeth the truth! as this dear child tells you,' with
his hand on Minna's head, 'he cannot be really injured while he is
innocent.'

Awed into calm, Averil let him seat her beside him, and put her in
possession of the main facts of the case, Minna standing by him, her
hand in his, evidently understanding and feeling all that passed.

Neither could throw light on anything. Leonard had been less
communicative to them than to Aubrey, and had kept his resolution of
uncomplainingly drinking the brewst he had brewed for himself. All
Averil could tell was, that her uncle had once spoken to Henry in
commendation of his steadiness and trustworthiness, though at the same
time abusing him for airs and puppyism.

'Henry would tell you. Where is Henry?' she added.

'In my study. He could not bear to bring you these tidings. You must
be ready to comfort him, Ave.'

'Don't let him come,' she cried. 'He never was kind to Leonard. He
drove him there. I shall always feel that it was his doing.'

'Averil,' said Dr. May gravely, 'do you forget how much that increases
his suffering? Nothing but mutual charity can help you through this
fiery trial. Do not let anger and recrimination take from you the last
shreds of comfort, and poison your prayers. Promise me to be kind to
Henry, for indeed he needs it.'

'O, Dr. May,' said Minna, looking up with her eyes full of tears,
'indeed I will. I was cross to Henry because he was cross to Leonard,
but I won't be so any more.'

Ave drooped her head, as if it were almost impossible to her to speak.

Dr. May patted Minna's dark head caressingly, and said to the elder
sister, 'I will not urge you more. Perhaps you may have Leonard back,
and then joy will open your hearts; or if not, my poor Ave, the sight
of Henry will do more than my words.'

Mary looked greatly grieved, but said nothing, only following her
father to take his last words and directions. 'Keep her as quiet as
you can. Do not worry her, but get o