then
you'll be of no use to your son."

"Do you really think so?" said Mrs. Staunton. "Yes, I mustn't be ill;
George doesn't like it--it quite frets him. He is not like his dear
father. He wants a cheerful home--no wonder, he is young, dear lad, he
is young. Yes, I'll go to bed, and then I'll be all right in the
morning. Come, Effie, help your mother to bed."

Effie took the poor woman out of the room. They went into the little
bedroom. She helped her mother to undress. When she saw her lay her head
on the pillow, she went back to the sitting room, where Lawson was
quietly standing.

"I happened most fortunately," he said, the moment he saw her, "to have
some packets of bromide in my pocket. There is sal-volatile in the room.
I have made up a rather strong composing-draught for your mother. If she
takes it, she will sleep peacefully and will not be likely to wake until
the morning. Give it to her at once, and then come back to me--I have
something to tell you."

Effie's trembling knees could scarcely support her as she went back to
the next room.

"Has George come yet?" asked the mother.

"Not yet, mother; won't you take this medicine, please?"

"Yes, my love, yes. Effie, you are a very good girl--a great comfort to
me, my darling. I'm glad you never went to the hospital; it was a mad,
foolish scheme, and George never liked it. You are a great comfort to
me, and a great comfort to your dear brother. You'll be sure to give him
his dinner comfortably when he comes back, Effie?"

"Yes, mother, yes. Now do go to sleep, dear mother."

Mrs. Staunton drank off the medicine, laid her head on her pillow, and
closed her dim, dark eyes. Effie watched by her until she thought she
was dropping asleep. Pretty little Marjory was lying sound asleep in the
same bed. Phil opened his big eyes as his sister passed.

"Is anything the matter?" he whispered. "Is anything wrong with George?"

"Pray for him, Phil," said Effie, tears suddenly filling her eves.

"Yes, yes," said the little fellow. "I always do."

Effie went into the next room.

"You have plenty of pluck, haven't you?" said Lawson, when he saw her.

"I hope so--I had need to have."

"Yes, I know that. Well, that unfortunate boy has put his foot in it at
last,--he is in trouble,--detectives are after him."

"Detectives after George!" exclaimed Effie. "What can you possibly mean?
Oh, do tell me at once--don't leave me in suspense."

"Sit down and I will tell y