en
her thoughts flew to the Infirmary ward, where Bob Priday lay dying, and
she felt determined that, if possible, Susan should see him, and she
laid her plans to effect this meeting.

As soon as Falcon woke, she lifted him from his bed and took him to the
nursery, washing him and dressing him, and kneeling with him to say his
morning prayers; then she said to the boy:

"Falcon, grandmamma is asleep, and so is dear father. Dear father has
been hurt by the rioters, and is to lie in bed very quiet all day. I
want to go up to Clifton to see the baby Joy, and Lettice and Lota. I
shall leave you to watch by father, and if he stirs or wakes, call
grandmamma. Will you do this?"

"Yes, mother," the boy said. Then with a sigh, "I hope the riots are
over now. At first I liked to hear the noise, and watch the crowd, but I
got tired of it. Are we to go to church, mother?"

"If I can get back in time, darling, you shall go to church with Mary,
but I don't think I shall go to-day."

Then she gave Falcon his basin of bread and milk, moving so gently that
no one heard her lighting the nursery fire, and performing with her
accustomed nicety all the little household duties which had been
familiar to her from early childhood. Then she shared Falcon's breakfast
with him, gave him a volume of the old "Children's Friend," with the
funny little woodcuts, which were the delight of the children of fifty
years ago; and, establishing him in the window-seat in his father's
room, left him on guard. It was beautiful to see how the noisy,
high-spirited child, responded to his mother's hand, and felt a proud
sense of serving her, as he was left in the room to take care of his
father.

The clocks were chiming a quarter to eight as Joyce reached Park Street,
where all was quiet, but she heard several passers by, say that Queen's
Square was again thronged, and that the "roughs" were forcing their way
back to the scene of the previous day's disturbances.

By the turn to Berkley Square, Joyce met Mr. Bengough, who was hurrying
down to the Guildhall, where, he said, Major Mackworth was attempting to
organise the special constables; but that Colonel Brereton's folly in
removing his troops to the Leigh stables, had given the mob every
encouragement.

"You may be glad, Mrs. Arundel, that your husband is out of the fray;
there will be more broken heads before midnight, I expect."

"I trust and pray, you may be kept safely. Come in, later in the day,