m."

"Yes--yes," Griselda said; "and I will reward you for your care of
Norah."

"I want no reward, madam," Brian said quickly. "Have you any
commands?--for it is late. The actors at the theatre have subscribed for
the burial; but----"

"Not enough--I understand. Follow me upstairs--gently--softly," she
said, as she led the way to a small room at the head of the stairs where
Graves worked.

Griselda pointed to the door; and then going to her own room on the
upper story, she took up the letter she had at last written to Leslie
Travers, and the packet of money she had sealed for Graves to take to
Crown Alley. When she rejoined Brian, she said:

"I entrust you with these two packets. I had them ready. The money is
for the--for my sister. Let her have decent black, and proper mourning;
and there are two guineas for the funeral of--her father. But," Griselda
said, with a strange pang of self-reproach she could not have defined,
as she felt how little the death of her father and her sister's sorrow
weighed in the balance against an aching fear and anxiety about Mr.
Travers--"but this letter I want you to put into the hands of Mr. Leslie
Travers in King Street. For this--oh! I would reward you in any way that
you desire. Bring me an answer back, and I will owe you eternal
gratitude. Do you hear?"

Yes, Brian heard. It seemed all but impossible that this tall, beautiful
lady should clasp her hands as a suppliant to him. His large, honest
eyes sought hers, and the appeal in them touched his boyish heart.

"I will do what you wish, madam, and as quickly as I can."

"Thank you--I thank you, dear boy, with all my heart. Oh, that you may
bring back a word to comfort me!--for I am shadowed with the cloud of
coming, as well as past, misfortune; and I scarce know how to be patient
till the pain of suspense is relieved." Then, laying her hand on Brian's
shoulder, she said: "Promise to see Mr. Travers, and put the letter in
his hand."

And Brian promised, and kept his promise faithfully.

CHAPTER XVI.

IN THE EARLY MORNING.

Griselda returned to her room to watch the timepiece, and listen for the
striking of the Abbey clock, as the slow hours passed, and she paced the
floor in her restlessness from the fireplace to the window, and then
back again from the window to the fire.

About ten o'clock Graves came in with a cup of chocolate, and to tell
her that Mr. Cheyne, the doctor, had seen Lady Betty, and pronounce