and you will
find activity the best cure for any uneasiness,' Mrs Lambert concluded,
with dignified emphasis.

Bryda was about to remonstrate, but she felt it would be useless. She
must try to possess her soul in patience, and hope that after a little
time Mrs Lambert might relent, and, at least, give her leave of absence
for a few days.

But the efforts to keep up an appearance of cheerfulness, and to be at
Madam Lambert's beck and call, was a very great strain on her.

Then the gossips who came in to supper or tea were for some days full of
the event of the previous Sunday, and Bryda had to sit by and listen to
various versions of the story--to reports which one day would be that
the murderer had been caught, and the next that the Squire was dead. And
then there were whispered questions not intended for Bryda's ear, which
concerned her, she was sure, and ominous shakes of the head and glances
of curiosity, till often Bryda was constrained to throw down her work
and leave the parlour.

So passed the long and miserable weeks, with now and again a message
from Bet, or a few lines hastily scrawled, and often scarcely legible.
The Squire was alive, but light in his head, and seemed to know nothing,
nor heed nothing. There seemed no comfort anywhere. Jack was, it is
true, out of reach and safe whatever happened; but, as is often the
case, the faithful lover of her youth was, by separation, raised to a
very much higher level than when he was with her every Sunday, and poor
Bryda's heart ached with self-reproach and vain longings that she had
been kinder to poor Jack who loved her so well.

It was one day in June, when all Nature was rejoicing in the freshness
of early summer, that Mr Barrett called at 6 Dowry Square and asked to
see Miss Palmer.

Bryda was in the kitchen, doing her best to prepare a particular dish to
please Mr Lambert for his supper-party that night, when Sam came down to
say Mr Barrett wanted to see her on business. Bryda threw off her large
apron, pulled her sleeves over her elbows, and with a hasty glance at
the little bit of square glass, which distorted her face beyond
recognition, she hastened upstairs with a beating heart. She found Mr
Barrett in the hall.

'Can you come with me to-morrow to Rock House, Miss Palmer? The Squire,
Mr Bayfield, was moved to his own home yesterday, and I superintended
the removal. He has something on his mind which he says he must tell
you, and none but you. Poor