ing him
intently.

"Sad news, Tom," said his uncle, in a low, grave voice. "My brother has
been better, but he has during the past week had a fresh attack, and is
very bad."

"I am very sorry, uncle," said Tom frankly.

"Yes, you would be, Tom, as it is serious."

Uncle Richard paused, looking very hard at his nephew. Then quietly--

"You did not get on very well with your uncle."

"No; I was too stupid, and it made him angry, uncle."

"Humph! Well, Tom, by-gones must of course be by-gones. Your cousin
has written this letter at his father's dictation, and here is a
postscript.

"`Father seems to be very dangerously ill, and the doctor says that he
must have something upon his mind.'"

"Is it that he thinks he is more ill than he really is?" said Tom
quietly; but his uncle looked up from the letter so sharply and sternly
that the boy changed countenance.

"The letter does not suggest that, Tom," said Uncle Richard, frowning.
"My poor brother--" Uncle Richard paused for a moment or two--"wishes to
see me once again, he says, and--and you, my boy, on business of great
importance to you and your interests. If I cannot go, he requests that
you be sent up to him at once."

"Poor uncle!" said Tom quietly. "But does he think that I ought to go
back to the law, uncle?"

"Perhaps."

"But I couldn't, Uncle Richard, I am so stupid. I hate it. Pray, pray
don't think of letting me go. I am so happy here."

Uncle Richard's face relaxed a little.

"Perhaps he doesn't mean that. He had to do with your poor father's
affairs. It may be some business connected with them."

"What could there be, uncle?"

"Ah, that I cannot say. I was abroad at the time of his death."

"Mother never said anything about them," said Tom.

"Well, you must go up and see him at once."

"Of course, uncle."

"And I shall go with you, my boy. I hope he really is not so bad."

"I hope he is not," said Tom. "How soon shall you go, uncle?"

"In half-an-hour. If we sent for a fly we could only catch the one
o'clock train; if we walk over to the station we can catch that at
eleven. Shall we walk?"

"Yes, uncle. I'll change my things, and be ready as soon as you."

That afternoon they reached Mornington Crescent, to find straw laid
thickly down in front of the house, and a strange feeling of depression
came over Tom as they entered the silent room, to be received by his
aunt, who looked white and anxious.

"I am so glad