class
compartment which they had reserved.

Uncle Gilbert's victory was short lived, however; no sooner did the
ailing man realize that Chester was not with them than he become visibly
affected. He tried hard to talk, but to no avail. He looked pleadingly
at Lucy and at his brother as if for information, but without results.
Lucy's pinched, tear-stained face added to his restlessness, and there
was a note of insincerity in Uncle Gilbert's reassuring talk that his
brother did not fail to discern.

That ride, usually so pleasant over the beautiful green country, was a
most miserable one. It was so painful to see the expression on the
minister's face that Uncle Gilbert began to doubt the wisdom of the plan
he was trying. Lucy became quite alarmed, and asked if they ought not to
stop at one of the midland cities; but Uncle Gilbert said they could
surely go on to Liverpool.

"But we can't cross over to Ireland. Father could not possibly stand the
trip," she said.

The uncle agreed to that. "We'll have to stop at Liverpool for a day or
so--I have it!" he exclaimed, "Captain Andrew Brown is now at home. He
told me to be sure to call, and bring you all with me. He has a very
nice house up the Mersey--a fine restful place. We'll go there."

And they did. Lucy could say nothing for or against, and the father was
so ill by the time they reached Liverpool that he did not seem to
realize what he was doing or where he was going. A cab took them all out
from the noises of the city to the quiet of the countryside. It was
afternoon, and the sun shone slantingly on the waters of the river,
above which on the hills amid trees and flowering gardens stood the
house of Captain Andrew Brown.

As the carriage rolled along the graveled path to the house, the captain
himself came to meet them, expressing his surprise and delight, and
welcoming them most heartily. The minister was helped out and into the
house, where he was made comfortable. Lucy was shown to her room by the
housekeeper. Uncle Gilbert made explanations to the captain of the
reason for this untoward raid on his hospitality.

"I'm mighty glad you came," said the captain. "You couldn't possible
have gone on, and as for stopping at a hotel--if you had, I should never
have forgiven you."

The sick man would not take anything to eat. He lay as if half asleep,
so he was put to bed. Lucy remained with him during the evening. Once in
a while he would open his eyes, reach out hi