he latter, and thought
immediately of the absent husband and father. I felt that I could not do
better than obey the summons. Pat promised to wait for me at the gate,
and I hastened into the house to prepare for my journey.

"I am going for a walk, Jane," I said, looking in at the school-room
door. "Don't be surprised if I am not in before dark."

"But, Margery!" I heard her beginning, and did not wait to hear any
more.

How I racked my brains during that walk to try and guess the cause of my
sudden summons. The only thing I could think of was that Mr. Hollingford
was in prison. I never fancied anything approaching to the truth.

Mrs. Beatty was anxiously watching at the door for my arrival. She had
tea waiting for me, and began pulling off my bonnet and boots at her
fireside. But her hands were shaking, and her eyes red and watering.

"Never mind me, Mrs. Beatty," I said, imploringly; "tell me what is the
matter."

"Take a sup of tea first, my dear young lady," said she; "ill news is
heard soon enough."

"I won't taste it," I said, pushing it away. "Tell me this instant!" I
said, as a dim fear of the truth came across my brain.

"Well, my dear," she said, beginning to cry outright, "you see there has
been a terrible smash of the coach from London. The horses fell crossing
a bridge, and the coach was overturned into the river; and they do say
everybody was killed or drowned. And poor young Mr. Hollingford was in
the coach; and, oh! that I should have to say it, he's met a cruel
death. I sent for you, dear young lady, that you might break the news
gently to his mother; for there's not a soul in the country side dare
carry the story to her door, and they'll maybe be bringing home the
bodies."

"Stop!" said I. "Mrs. Beatty--are you sure--"

And the next thing I knew was a sensation of coldness and wetness upon
my face, and a smell of vinegar and wine, and a sound of murmuring and
crying.

[Illustration: MARGERY HEARS OF THE ACCIDENT.]

"Dear heart, dear heart! to think of her taking on so!" I heard the good
woman saying, and I crept to my feet, and began tying on my bonnet in
spite of her entreaties that I would lie still.

"No, no, I must get home!" I said, shuddering. "Some one else will come
and tell her, and it will kill her. Let me go at once! Let me go!"

At the door in the frosty dusk Pat was waiting with a horse and gig.

"I was thinkin' ye'd be a bit staggered by the news, miss," he said,
"an' I