e sitting-room, the other doors were all shut. Markham hesitated,
and stood reluctant.

'Yes, you had better tell him I am here,' said she, in the voice, so
gentle, that no one perceived its resolution.

Markham knocked at one of the high heavy doors, and softly opened it.
Amabel stood behind it, and looked into the room, more than half dark,
without a fire, and very large, gloomy, and cheerless, in the gray
autumn twilight, that just enabled her to see the white pillows on the
sofa, and Philip's figure stretched out on it. Markham advanced and
stood doubtful for an instant, then in extremity, began--'Hem! Lady
Morville is come, and--'

Without further delay she came forward, saying--'How are you, Philip?'

He neither moved nor seemed surprised, he only said, 'So you are come to
heap more coals on my head.'

A thrill of terror came over her, but she did not show it, as she said,
'I am sorry to find you so poorly.'

It seemed as if before he had taken her presence for a dream; for,
entirely roused, he exclaimed, in a tone of great surprise, 'Is it you,
Amy?' Then sitting up, 'Why? When did you come here?'

'Just now. We were afraid you were ill, we heard a bad account of you,
so we have taken you by storm: Charles, your goddaughter, and I, are
come to pay you a visit.'

'Charles! Charles here?' cried Philip, starting up. 'Where is he?'

'Coming in,' said Amy; and Philip, intent only on hospitality, hastened
into the hall, and met him at the door, gave him his arm and conducted
him where the inviting light guided them to the sitting-room. The full
brightness of lamp and fire showed the ashy paleness of his face; his
hair, rumpled with lying on the sofa, had, on the temples, acquired a
noticeable tint of gray, his whole countenance bore traces of terrible
suffering; and Amabel thought that even at Recoara she had never seen
him look more wretchedly ill.

'How did you come?' he asked. 'It was very kind. I hope you will be
comfortable.'

'We have taken good care of ourselves,' said Amy. 'I wrote to Mr.
Markham, for I thought you were not well enough to be worried with
preparations. We ought to beg your pardon for breaking on you so
unceremoniously.'

'If any one should be at home here--' said Philip, earnestly;--then
interrupting himself, he shaded his eyes from the light, 'I don't know
how to make you welcome enough. When did you set off?'

'Yesterday afternoon,' said Charles; 'we slept in London, and came o