ur children have had it too, so there's no fear. Come
up-stairs, Mary Baines."

Passing, with a thankful look, the room where her own boys slept, the
good mother established this forlorn young mother and her two children
in a little closet outside the nursery door; cheered her with
comfortable words; helped her ignorance with wise counsels--for Ursula
was the general doctress of all the poor folk round. It was almost
midnight before she came down to the parlour where John and I sat, he
with little Muriel asleep in his arms. The child would gladly have
slumbered away all night there, with the delicate, pale profile pressed
close into his breast.

"Is all right, love? How tired you must be!" John put his left arm
round his wife as she came and knelt by him, in front of the cheerful
fire.

"Tired? Oh, of course; but you can't think how comfortable they are
up-stairs. Only poor Mary Baines does nothing but cry, and keep
telling me that nothing ails her lad but hunger. Are they so very
poor?"

John did not immediately answer; I fancied he looked suddenly uneasy,
and imperceptibly pressed his little girl closer to him.

"The lad seems very ill. Much worse than our children were with
measles."

"Yet how they suffered, poor pets! especially Walter. It was the
thought of them made me pity her so. Surely I have not done wrong?"

"No--love; quite right and kind. Acting so, I think one need not fear.
See, mother, how soundly Muriel sleeps. It's almost a pity to waken
her--but we must go to bed now."

"Stay one minute," I said. "Tell us, John--I quite forgot to ask till
now--what is that 'painful business' you mentioned, which called the
sheriff to Lord Luxmore's?"

John glanced at his wife, leaning fondly against him, her face full of
sweet peace, then at his little daughter asleep, then round the
cheerful fire-lit room, outside which the autumn night-wind went
howling furiously.

"Love, we that are so happy, we must not, dare not condemn."

She looked at him with a shocked inquiry. "You don't mean--No; it is
impossible!"

"It is true. She has gone away."

Ursula sank down, hiding her face. "Horrible! And only two days since
she was here, kissing our children."

We all three kept a long silence; then I ventured to ask when she went
away?

"This morning, early. They took--at least, Mr. Vermilye did--all the
property of Lord Luxmore's that he could lay his hands upon--family
jewels and money to