ad not been a perfect Eden in itself, but still it had all the
associations of the paradise of her guileless childhood; and to her the
halo around it would always have the radiance of the loving spirit
through which she viewed it. The undefined future was hard to bear, but
she thought of Robert, and of the promise that neither her sisters nor
Miss Fennimore should be parted from her, and tried to rest thankful on
that comfort.

She had left the down for the turnpike road, the sounds of the hunt often
reaching her, with glimpses of men and dogs in the distance taking a
direction parallel with her own. Presently a red coat glanced through
the hedge of one of the cross lanes, as if coming towards the road, and
as she reached the opening at the end, a signal was made to her to stop.
Foreboding some accident, she hastily turned up the narrow white muddy
lane, and was met by an elderly gentleman.

'Don't be alarmed,' he said kindly; 'only your brother seems rather
unwell, and I thought I had best see him under your charge.'

Mervyn was by this time in sight, advancing slowly, and Phoebe with rapid
thanks rode on to meet him. She knew that dull, confused, dazzled eye
belonged to his giddy fits, and did not wonder at the half-uttered
murmur, rather in the imprecation line, with which he spoke; but the reel
in his saddle terrified her greatly, and she was dismayed to see that the
gentleman had proceeded into the high road instead of offering further
assistance. She presently perceived that the danger of falling was less
real than apparent, and that her brother could still keep his seat, and
govern his horse, though nearly unable to look or speak. She kept close
to him, and was much relieved to find that the stranger had not returned
to the sport, but was leisurely following at some distance behind the
groom. Never had two miles seemed so long as under her frequent alarms
lest Mervyn should become unable to keep the saddle; but at each moment
of terror, she heard the pace of the hunter behind quickened to come to
her help, and if she looked round she met an encouraging sign.

When the lodge was reached, and Mervyn, somewhat revived, had ridden
through the gates, she turned back to give her warm thanks. A kind,
fatherly, friendly face looked at her with a sort of compassion, as
putting aside her thanks, the gentleman said, quickly, yet
half-reluctantly, 'Have you ever seen him like this before?'

'Yes; the giddiness oft