k I must have got a sun-stroke."

Old Matthew pulled off his straw hat, and lifted himself slowly out of
his chair. All his movements were slow now. Lionel had sat himself down
on the settle, his head clasped by both hands, and his pale face turned
to fiery red--as deep a crimson as Mrs. Verner's was habitually.

"A sun-stroke?" echoed old Matthew, leaning on his stick, as he stood
before him, attentively regarding Lionel. "Ay, sir, for sure it looks
like it. Have you been standing still in the sun, this blazing day?"

"I have been standing in it without my hat," replied Lionel. "Not for
long, however."

"It don't take a minute, sir, to do the mischief. I had one myself,
years before you were born, Mr. Lionel. On a day as hot as this, I was
out in my garden, here, at the back of this cottage. I had gone out
without my hat, and was standing over my pig, watching him eat his wash,
when I felt something take my head--such a pain, sir, that I had never
felt before, and never wish to feel again. I went indoors, and Robin,
who might be a boy of five, or so, looked frightened at me, my face was
so red. I couldn't hold my head up, sir; and when the doctor came, he
said it was a sun-stroke. I think there must be particular moments and
days when the sun has this power to harm us, though we don't know which
they are nor how to avoid them," added old Matthew, as much in
self-soliloquy as to Lionel. "I had often been out before, without my
hat, in as great heat; for longer, too; and it had never harmed me.
Since then, sir, I have put a white handkerchief inside the crown of my
hat in hot weather. The doctor told me to do so."

"How long did the pain last?" asked Lionel, feeling _his_ pain growing
worse with every moment. "Many hours?"

"_Hours_?" repeated old Matthew, with a strong emphasis on the word.
"Mr. Lionel, it lasted for days and weeks. Before the next morning came,
sir, I was in a raging fever; for three weeks, good, I was in my bed,
above here, and never out of it; hardly the clothes smoothed a-top of
me. Sun-strokes are not frequent in this climate, sir, but when they do
come, they can't be trifled with."

Perhaps Lionel felt the same conviction. Perhaps he felt that with this
pain, increasing as it was in intensity, he must make the best of his
way home, if he would get home at all. "Good-day, Matthew," he said,
rising from the bench. "I'll go home at once!"

"And send for Dr. West, sir, or for Mr. Jan, if you a