raid--I should be very unhappy if I were not permitted to do what
little good I can."

For the second time there flashed into Kate's mind the thought that she
had never done this woman justice. Here she was, generous and
self-sacrificing, risking her own safety by the sick-bed of her
husband's own son. Could it be that after all she had married her father
because she loved him, and not because he was Captain Danton of Danton
Hall?

"Father Francis ought to know," she mused; "and Father Francis sings her
praises on every occasion. I know Eeny loves her dearly, and the
servants like and respect her in a manner I never saw surpassed. Can it
be that I have been blind, and unjust, and prejudiced from first to
last, and that my father's wife is a thousand times better than I am?"

The two women sat together in the sick-room all the forenoon. Kate
talked to her step-mother far more socially and kindly than she had ever
talked to her before, and was surprised to find Grace had a ready
knowledge of every subject she started. She smiled at herself by and by
in a little pause in the conversation.

"She is really very pleasant," she thought. "I shall begin to like her
presently, I am afraid."

Early in the afternoon, Doctor Frank returned. There was little change
in his patient, and no occasion for his remaining. He stayed half an
hour, and then took his hat to leave. He had more pressing cases in the
village to attend, and departed promising to call again before
nightfall.

The news of Mr. Richards' illness had spread by this time through the
house. The young Doctor knew this, and wondered if Agnes Darling had
heard it, and why she did not try to see him. He was thinking about it
as he walked briskly down the avenue, and resolving he must try and see
her that evening, when a little black figure stepped out from the shadow
of the trees and confronted him.

"'Angels and ministers of grace defend us,'" ejaculated the Doctor; "I
thought it was a ghost, and I find it is only Agnes Darling. You look
about as pale as a ghost, though. What is the matter with you?"

She clasped her hands and looked at him piteously.

"He is sick. You have seen him? Oh, Doctor Danton! is it Harry?"

"My dear Mrs. Danton, I am happy to tell you it is. Don't faint now, or
I shall tell you nothing more."

She leaned against a tree, white and trembling; her hands clasped over
her beating heart.

"And he is ill, and I may not see him. Oh, tell me