on of gladness
in seeing Richard was refreshing; the sense of being desolate and
forsaken was relieved, and they knew that now they had one to rely on
and to comfort them.

Harry hastened to open the front door, and Richard, with his small
trim figure, and fresh, fair young face, flushed, though not otherwise
agitated, was among them, almost devoured by the younger ones, and
dealing out quiet caresses to them, as he caught from the words and
looks of the others that at least his father and sister were no worse.
Mr. Wilmot had come with him, but only stayed to hear the tidings.

"Can I see papa?" were Richard's first audible words--all the rest had
been almost dumb show.

Ethel thought not, but took him to Margaret's room, where he stood for
many minutes without speaking; then whispered to Flora that he must go
to the others, she should call him if--and went down, followed by Ethel.

Tom and Blanche had fallen into teasing tricks, a sort of melancholy
play to relieve the tedium. They grew cross. Norman was roused to
reprove sharply, and Blanche was beginning to cry. But Richard's
entrance set all at peace--he sat down among them, and, with soft voice
and arm round Blanche, as she leaned against him, made her good in a
moment; and she listened while he talked over with Norman and Ethel all
they could bear to speak of.

Late in the day Flora came into her father's room, and stood gazing
at him, as he lay with eyes closed, breathing heavily, and his brows
contracted by pain. She watched him with piteous looks, as if imploring
him to return to his children. Poor girl, to-day's quiet, after the last
evening's bustle, was hard to bear. She had then been distracted from
thought by the necessity of exertion, but it now repaid itself, and she
knew not how to submit to do nothing but wait and watch.

"No change?" enquired Alan Ernescliffe; looking kindly in her face.

"No," replied she in a low, mournful tone. "She only once said, thank
you."

A voice which she did not expect, asked inquiringly, "Margaret?" and her
heart beat as if it would take away her breath, as she saw her father's
eyes intently fixed on her. "Did you speak of her?" he repeated.

"Yes, dear papa," said Flora, not losing presence of mind, though in
extreme fear of what the next question might be. "She is quiet and
comfortable, so don't be uneasy, pray."

"Let me hear," he said, and his whole voice and air showed him to be
entirely roused. "There is