er ears, and blow aside her prayers. There was a touch on her
shoulder, and one of the Sisters who had received the ladies said,
interrogatively, "Miss Vivian? The Mother would be obliged if you
would come to her room."

The general hush prevented Lenore from manifesting her extreme
agitation, and she moved with as quiet a step as she could command,
though trembling from head to foot. In the room to which she came
stood the Superior and Dr. Easterby, and a yellow telegram-paper lay
on the table.

"My father?" she asked.

"No," said the Superior, kindly, "it is your sister, who is ill.
Here is the telegram--"

"Sister Margaret to the Mother Superior, St. Faith's, Dearport.
Lady Tyrrell has the fever. Miss Vivian much needed.

"Wils'bro, Sept. 26th, 5.30."

"The fever!" She looked up bewildered, and the Superior added--

"You did not know of a fever at Wil'sbro'? Some of our nursing
Sisters were telegraphed for, and went down yesterday. I was sorry
to send Sister Margaret away just when her mother and you are here;
but she was the only available head, and the need seemed great."

"I have heard nothing since I left home on Friday," said Eleonora,
hoarsely. "It is my own fault. They think I am at Revelrig."

"Your family do not know you are here?" said the Superior, gravely.

"It was very wrong," she said. "This is the punishment. I must go.
Can I?"

"Surely, as soon as there is a train," said the Superior, beginning
to look for a Bradshaw; while Dr. Easterby gave Lenore a chair, and
bade her sit down. She looked up at his kind face, and asked
whether he had heard of this fever.

"On Sunday evening, some friends who came out from Backsworth to our
evening service spoke of an outbreak of fever at Wil'sbro', and said
that several of the Charnock family were ill. I have had this card
since from young Mr. Bowater:--

"T. F. in severe form. J. C. well, but both his brothers are
down in it, and Lady K.'s brother, also Lady T. and the Vicar.
No one to do anything; we have taken charge of Wil'sbro'. I have
no time to do more than thank you for unspeakable kindness. H.
B."

"You knew?" exclaimed Lenore, as she saw her sister's initial.

"I knew Lady Tyrrell was ill, but I do not know who the ladies are
whom I address. I did not guess that you were here," said Dr.
Easterby, gently.

No one living near Backsworth could fail to know Sir Harry Vivian's
reputation, so that the master of Rood House k