ly, too," muttered Mr. Wyld; adding aloud, "Upon my honour, my
dear, I assure you your father is alive."

"Alive! Oh, my poor father!" And then she sank down slowly where she
stood, as if pressed by some heavy, invisible hand. Mr. Wyld thought she
had fainted; but it was not so. In another moment she stood before him,
nerved by this great woe to a firmness which was awful in its rigid
composure.

"I can listen now. Tell me everything!"

He told her in a few words how Captain Rothesay had come to his house
the night before; and, while waiting his return, had taken up the
newspaper. "Suddenly, my clerk said, he let it fall with a cry, and was
immediately seized with the fit from which he has not yet recovered.
There is hope, the doctor thinks; but, in case of the worst, you must
come to him at once."

"Yes, yes, at once!" She rose and walked to the door, guiding herself by
the wall.

"Nay, Miss Rothesay, what are you doing? You forget we cannot go without
your mother."

"My mother! O, Heaven! it will kill my mother!"

And the thought brought tears, the first that had burst from her. It was
well.

She recovered to consciousness and strength. In this great crisis there
came to her the wisdom and forethought that lay dormant in her nature.
She became a woman--one of those of whom the world contains few--at once
gentle and strong, meek and fearless, patient to endure, heroic to act.

She sat down for a moment and considered. "Fourteen miles it is to
B----. If we start in an hour we shall reach there by sunset." Then she
summoned the maid, and said, speaking steadily, that she might by no
sign betray what might in turn be betrayed to her mother--

"You must go and meet mamma as she comes from church; or, if not, go
into the church to her. Tell her there is a message come from papa,
and ask her to hasten home. Make haste yourself. I will keep house the
while."

The woman left the room, murmuring a little, but never thinking to
disobey her young mistress, so sudden, so constraining, was the dignity
which had come upon the girl. Even Mr. Wyld felt it, and his manner
changed from condolence to respect.

"What can I do, Miss Rothesay? You turn from me. No wonder, when I have
had the misfortune to be the bearer of such evil tidings."

"Hush!" she said. Mechanically she set wine before him. He drank talking
between the draughts, of his deep sorrow, and earnest hope that no
serious evil would befall his good friend, C