altogether pleasant;--I
may say, by no means pleasant. Troubles have told upon me, but change
of air will mend it all."

"I wish you would come with me, at once, to London. You shall come
back, you know. I will not detain you."

"Thank you,--no. I will not trouble you. That will do, Mrs. Fuller.
You have intended to do your duty, no doubt, and now you can go."
Whereupon Mrs. Fuller did go. "I am obliged for your care, Sir
Marmaduke, but I can really do very well without troubling you."

"You cannot suppose, Trevelyan, that we can allow things to go on
like this."

"And what do you mean to do?"

"Well;--I shall take advice. I shall go to a lawyer,--and to a
doctor, and perhaps to the Lord Chancellor, and all that kind of
thing. We can't let things go on like this."

"You can do as you please," said Trevelyan, "but as you have
threatened me, I must ask you to leave me."

Sir Marmaduke could do no more, and could say no more, and he took
his leave, shaking hands with the man, and speaking to him with a
courtesy which astonished himself. It was impossible to maintain
the strength of his indignation against a poor creature who was so
manifestly unable to guide himself. But when he was in London he
drove at once to the house of Dr. Trite Turbury, and remained there
till the doctor returned from his round of visits. According to
the great authority, there was much still to be done before even
the child could be rescued out of the father's hands. "I can't act
without the lawyers," said Dr. Turbury. But he explained to Sir
Marmaduke what steps should be taken in such a matter.

Trevelyan, in the mean time, clearly understanding that hostile
measures would now be taken against him, set his mind to work to
think how best he might escape at once to America with his boy.

CHAPTER LXX.

SHEWING WHAT NORA ROWLEY THOUGHT ABOUT CARRIAGES.

Sir Marmaduke, on his return home from Dr. Turbury's house, found
that he had other domestic troubles on hand over and above those
arising from his elder daughter's position. Mr. Hugh Stanbury had
been in Manchester Street during his absence, and had asked for him,
and, finding that he was away from home, had told his story to Lady
Rowley. When he had been shown up-stairs all the four daughters had
been with their mother; but he had said a word or two signifying his
desire to speak to Lady Rowley, and the three girls had left the
room. In this way it came to pass that he had to