led the way. Mrs. Nesbit was carried on
a mattress between two of the servants, Lady Martindale walking beside
her, absorbed in trying to guard her from injury or alarm; Annie, asleep
and unconscious, was in her mother's arms, and Theodora carried
the amused and chattering Helen. At the foot of the stairs, Violet
exclaimed, 'My cross, I must not leave it!' and would have turned, but
Theodora prevented her. 'I know where it is,' she said, 'I am going to
see how they are moving Maria;' and putting Helen into the nearest pair
of arms, she ran back.

Harrison's successor, Mr. Armstrong and his wife were on foot, and ready
to receive them. Their spare bed was for Mrs. Nesbit, in their own the
three children were placed. In all his haste, Lord Martindale paused
till he could lay his little shivering ice-cold charge in the bed, and
see him hide his head in his mother's bosom. 'Good boy!' he said, 'I
told him not to cry for you, and he has not made a sound, though I have
felt him trembling the whole way. Take care of him.'

Little did she need the recommendation, though it sent a thrill of
gladness through her that it should have been made at such a time. She
had great apprehension of the effect of the shock on the child's tender
frame and timid nature, his obedience and self-command seeming almost
to enhance the excess of terror. The shuddering horror and convulsive
clinging were beyond control, and were renewed whenever a fresh glare
broke out from the burning house; to turn him away from the window,
or to put up blinds and curtains made it worse, for the shadows of the
trees, flickering mysteriously, seemed still more terrific. His sister
screamed with excitement and delight at each brighter burst of flame,
till she suddenly laid down her head and fell fast asleep; but still his
nervous trembling continued at intervals, and his mother could not leave
him, nor cease from saying consoling words of his heavenly Guardian,
the only means that soothed him, especially when his sighing exclamation
recurred, 'O, if papa was but here!' the tune to which her heart was
throbbing throughout that dreadful night. She felt guilty of being
useless, but he was her first care, and her power of real service was
small: so she could only hang over him, and as she watched the healthful
sleep of her little girls, join her prayers and thanksgivings with his,
that all papa's treasures were safe. Not till the flames were dying
down, morning twilight