errible
price, but, to a man in his half-blind and invalid condition, the
actual loss of the person on whom he had depended was a privation. Dr.
Brownlow, however, knew of a good man-servant just set at liberty by
the death of an invalid master, and promised to send him on trial.

It was a day of agitations and disappointments, a sample of many that
were to follow. There was not a sound of a bell that did not make
anxious hearts throb. And oh! how many were spent on vain reports, on
mere calls of sympathy by acquaintance whom the father and sister could
not see, and on notes of inquiry or condolence that Nuttie had to
answer.

Annaple came and was a great help and support to her. Poor nurse,
oblivious of her bad foot, or perhaps, willing to wreak vengeance on it
as the cause of all the mischief, had insisted on continuing her search
in the morning under all the thorns and rhododendrons where she thought
the dear lamb might have hidden and cried himself to sleep, and at last
had been brought home in a cab quite worn out and despairing. But the
screaming baby proved to be a much better comforter to her than any
amount of reasonable argument. To soothe it, to understand what ailed
it, to find suitable food for it, was an occupation which made the
suspense less intolerable. The very handling of an infant would have
been congenial; and a sickly crying one was only too interesting.
Willie was too near her darling's age to be a welcome sight, but he was
already a prime pet with the servants at Springfield; and Annaple,
secure that her children were in safe and experienced hands, and
overflowing with motherly sympathy for the grievous loss, was ready to
devote herself to Nuttie, whether by talk, by letter writing, or by
seeing inquiring friends. She did not expect to be of any use to Mr.
Egremont, who had always held aloof from and disliked 'the giggling
Scotch girl,' but who came drearily wandering at an unexpected time
into the room where she was sitting with his daughter, and presently
was involved in their conversation. Whether it was the absence of the
poor familiar, or that Annaple was no longer a giggling girl, but a
brave, cheerful wife and mother, it was certain that he found the same
comfort and support in her presence as did Nuttie. When fits of
restless misery and despair pressed hardest upon him, it was soon
perceived that Annaple's cheerful tact enabled her to deal with him as
no one else could do. Th