te and stood quite still.

"Hark!" she said, "do you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"Lady Bellamy's horse--the big black horse that trots so fast."

"I can hear nothing, Angela."

"But I can. She is on the high-road yet; she will be here very soon;
that horse trots fast."

"Nonsense, Angela; it is some other horse."

But, as he spoke, the sound of a powerful animal trotting very rapidly
became distinctly audible.

"It has come--the evil news--and she has brought it."

"Rubbish, dear; somebody to see your father, no doubt."

A minute elapsed, and then Mrs. Jakes, now the only servant in the
house, was heard shuffling along the passage, followed by a firm,
light step.

"Don't leave me," said Angela to Mr. Fraser. "God give me strength to
bear it," she went on, beneath her breath. She was still standing
staring vacantly towards the door, pale, and her bosom heaving. The
intensity of her anxiety had to some extent communicated itself to Mr.
Fraser, for there are few things so catching as anxiety, except
enthusiasm; he, too, had risen, and was standing in an attitude of
expectancy.

"Lady Bellamy to see yer," said Mrs. Jakes, pushing her head through
the half-opened door.

Next second she had entered.

"I must apologize for disturbing you at dinner, Angela," she began
hurriedly, and then stopped and also stood still. There was something
very curious about her reception, she thought; both Mr. Fraser and
Angela might have been cut out of stone, for neither moved.

Standing thus in the silence of expectancy, the three made a strange
picture. On Lady Bellamy's face there was a look of stern
determination and suppressed excitement such as became one about to
commit a crime.

At last she broke the silence.

"I come to bring you bad news, Angela," she said.

"What have you to say? tell me, quick! No, stop, hear me before you
speak. If you have come here with any evil in your heart, or with the
intention to deceive or betray, pause before you answer. I am a lonely
and almost friendless woman, and have no claim except upon your
compassion; but it is not always well to deal ill with such as I,
since we have at last a friend whose vengeance you too must fear. So,
by the love of Christ and by the presence of the God who made you,
speak to me only such truth as you will utter at his judgment. Now,
answer, I am ready."

At her words, spoken with an earnestness and in a voice which made
them almost awful, a momentary e