us all entirely,
that she did."

It would be wrong to say that Sylvia did not burst into fresh weeping at
the sound of Betty's name.

But Hester was of stronger mettle. "We have come to you," she said--"Oh,
Sylvia, do stop crying! it does no manner of good to cry all the
time--we have come to you, Mrs. Miles, to help us to save Betty."

"Lawk-a-mercy! and whatever's wrong with the dear lamb?"

"We are going to tell you everything," said Hester. "We have quite made
up our minds. Betty is very, very ill."

"Yes," said Sylvia, "she is so ill that Dr. Ashley came to see her twice
yesterday, and then again a third time with a great, wonderful special
doctor from London; and we were not allowed to sleep in her room last
night, and she's--oh, she's dreadfully bad!

"They whispered in the school," continued Sylvia in a low tone--"I
heard them; they _did_ whisper it in the school--that perhaps Betty
would--would _die_. Mrs. Miles, that can't be true! God doesn't take
away young, young girls like our Betty. God couldn't be so cruel."

"We won't call it cruelty," said Mrs. Miles; "but God does do it, all
the same, for His own wise purposes, no doubt. We'll not talk o' that,
my lambs; we'll let that pass by. The thing is for you to tell me what
has gone wrong with that bonny, strong-looking girl. Why, when she was
here last, although she was a bit pale, she looked downright healthy and
strong enough for anything. Eh, my dear dears! you can't mention her
name even now to Dan and Beersheba that they ain't took with fits o'
delight about her, dancing and scampering like half-mad dogs, and
whining for her to come to them. There, to be sure! they know you belong
to her, and they're lying down as contented as anything at your feet. I
don't expect, somehow, your sister will die, my loves, although gels as
young as she have passed into the Better Land. Oh, dear, I'm making you
cry again! It's good corned beef and dumplings you want. You mustn't
give way, my dears; people who give way in times o' trouble ain't worth
their salt."

"We thought perhaps you'd help us," said Sylvia.

"Help you, darlings! That I will! I'd help you to this extent--I'd help
you even to the giving up o' the custom o' Haddo Court. Now, what can I
do more than that?"

"Oh, but your help--the help you can give us--won't do you any harm,"
said Hester. "We'll tell you about Betty, for we know that you'll never
let it out--except, indeed, to your husband. We d