fering severely. They were soon on their way home, but a
cloud rested on their spirits. Few words were said till they reached
the spot where the roads to the hall and the rectory parted. Then Frank
turned to Mary and said, with a look full of tenderness, rendered doubly
touching by his almost ghastly paleness,--

"Farewell; I hope you'll be none the worse, dear Mary, for your fright.
I shall send over to-morrow to inquire how you are. It was a happy
escape."

"Good-bye, good-bye!" she cried; "a thousand thanks for your noble and
timely rescue! Oh, I hope--I hope--"

She could not say more, but burst into tears.

"All right--never fear for me!" he cried cheerily as he rode off,
leaving Mary and a groom to make their way to Waterland, while himself
and the rest of the party hastened on to Greymoor Park.

They had not far to ride, but Frank was evidently anxious to reach home
as speedily as possible. With clenched teeth and knit brow, he urged on
his pony to a gallop. Soon they reached the lodge; a few moments more
and they had passed along the drive and gained the grand entrance. Lady
Oldfield had just returned from a drive, and was standing on the top
step.

"You're early home," she remarked. "Dear Frank, I hope there's nothing
amiss," she added, noticing the downcast looks of the whole party.

Her son did not answer, but, dismounting with difficulty, began to walk
up the steps. She observed with dismay that he tottered as he
approached her. Could he have been drinking so freely as to be unable
to walk steadily? Her heart died within her. The next moment he
staggered forward, and fainted in her arms.

CHAPTER FIVE.

GOOD RESOLUTIONS.

"What--what is this?" cried Lady Oldfield in bitter distress. "Frank--
my child--my beloved boy--oh, open your eyes--look at me--speak--what
has happened? Oh, he's dying, he's dying--James--Richard--carry him up
to his room. One of you tell Tomkins to ride off immediately for Dr
Portman. Thomas, fetch me some brandy--quick--quick!"

They carried him in a state of complete insensibility to his room, and
laid him on the bed. His mother stood over him, bathing his temples
with eau-de-cologne, and weeping bitterly. The brandy was brought; they
raised him, and poured a little through his blanched lips; slowly he
began to revive; his lips moved. Lady Oldfield stooped her ear close to
his face, and caught the murmured word, "Mary."

"Oh, thank God," she excla