a considerable amount. The earl is pursuing him
now, not only as his daughter's seducer, but as a swindler and a thief."

"And Richard Brithwood?"

"Drinks--and drinks--and drinks. That is the beginning and the end of
all."

There was no more to be said. She had dropped for ever out of her old
life, as completely as a star out of the sky. Henceforth, for years
and years, neither in our home, nor, I believe, in any other, was there
the slightest mention made of Lady Caroline Brithwood.

* * * * *

All the next day John was from home, settling the Kingswell affair. The
ejected tenants--our tenants now--left us at last, giving a parting
cheer for Mr. Halifax, the best master in all England.

Sitting down to tea, with no small relief that all was over, John asked
his wife after the sick lad.

"He is very ill still, I think."

"Are you sure it is measles?"

"I imagine so; and I have seen nearly all childish diseases,
except--no, THAT is quite impossible!" added the mother, hastily. She
cast an anxious glance on her little ones; her hand slightly shook as
she poured out their cups of milk. "Do you think, John--it was hard to
do it when the child is so ill--I ought to have sent them away with the
others?"

"Certainly not. If it were anything dangerous, of course Mary Baines
would have told us. What are the lad's symptoms?"

As Ursula informed him, I thought he looked more and more serious; but
he did not let her see.

"Make your mind easy, love; a word from Dr. Jessop will decide all. I
will fetch him after tea. Cheer up! Please God, no harm will come to
our little ones!"

The mother brightened again; with her all the rest; and the tea-table
clatter went on merry as ever. Then, it being a wet night, Mrs.
Halifax gathered her boys round her knee for an evening chat over the
kitchen-fire; while through the open door, out of the dim parlour came
"Muriel's voice," as we called the harpsichord. It seemed sweeter than
ever this night, like--as her father once said, but checked himself,
and never said it afterwards--like Muriel talking with angels.

He sat listening awhile, then, without any remark, put on his coat and
went out to fetch the good doctor. I followed him down to the stream.

"Phineas," he said, "will you mind--don't notice it to the mother--but
mind and keep her and the children down-stairs till I come back?"

I promised. "Are you uneasy ab