ed Julius. He rose and went towards
his mother. She held out her hands and said. "Take me to my
Frank."

"We had better," whispered Anne.

They wheeled her to the foot of the stairs. Julius took her in his
arms, Anne held her feet, and thus they carried her up the stairs,
and along the passage, hearing Frank's husky rapid babble all the
way, and finding him struggling with the fierce strength of delirium
against Jenkins, who looked as if he thought them equally senseless,
when he saw his helpless mistress carried in.

"Frank, my boy, do lie still," she said, and he took no notice; but
when she laid her hand on his, he turned, looked at her with his
dull eyes, and muttered, "Mother!"

It was the first recognition for many a day! and, at the smoothing
motion of her hand over him, while she still entreated, "Lie still,
my dear," the mutterings died away; the childish instinct of
obedience stilled the struggles; and there was something more like
repose than had been seen all these weary months.

"Mother," said Julius, "you can do for us what no one else can. You
will save him."

She looked up to him, and hope took away the blank misery he had
dreaded to see. "My poor Frankie," she said dreamily, "he has
wanted me, I will not leave him now."

All was soon still; Frank's face had something like rest on it, as
he lay with his mother's hand on his brow, and she intent only on
him.

"You can leave them to me, I think," said Anne. "I will send if
there be need; but if not, you had better not come up till you have
been to Wil'sbro'--if you must go."

"I must, I fear; I promised to come to Fuller if he be still here.
I will speak to Jenkins first."

Julius was living like a soldier in a campaign, with numbers
dropping beside him, and no time to mourn, scarcely to realize the
loss, and he went on, almost as if he had been a stranger; while the
grief of poor old Jenkins was uncontrollable, both for his lady's
sake and for the young master, who had been his pride and glory.
His sobs brought out Mrs. Grindstone into the gallery, to insist,
with some asperity, that there should be no noise to awaken her
mistress, who was in a sweet sleep.

"We will take care," said Julius, sadly. "I suppose she had better
hear nothing till Mr. Charnock comes."

"She must be left to me, sir, or I cannot be answerable for the
consequences," was the stiff reply, wherewith Mrs. Grindstone
retreated into her castle.

Julius left t