ot able to command his attention so as to answer when they speak
to him, and he cannot rest a moment. He spent the whole of last night
wandering up and down the garden, leaning on St. George's arm. He cannot
eat nor occupy himself, and the doctors begin to be uneasy about him.
Oh, it is such a misfortune!

"And Johnnie is very ill," continued Emily, tears glittering on her
eyelashes; "but John seems to take it all with perfect composure.
Everything else is swallowed up in his distress of mind for what he has
unfortunately done. If the child dies, I really think he will not get
over it."

Some one called Emily, and she passed up-stairs again. Valentine turned
and saw John near him; he came forward, but attempted no greeting. "I
thought I might be of use, John," he said, as if they had seen one
another but the day before. "Is there anything I can do for you over at
the town?"

Valentine was a little daunted at first at the sight of him; his face
was so white and he showed so plainly the oppression that weighed down
his soul by the look in his eyes; they were a little raised, and seemed
as if they could not rest on anything near at hand.

Valentine repeated his words, and was relieved when John roused himself,
and expressed surprise and pleasure at seeing him. He sent Valentine to
one of his clerks for some papers to be signed, gave him other
directions, and was evidently the better for his presence.

It was not without many strange sensations that Valentine found himself
again in that room where he had spent such happy hours, and which was so
connected with his recollections of his old uncle. The plunge he had
taken into the sweet waters of prosperity and praise had made him
oblivious of some things that now came before his thoughts again with
startling distinctness; but on the whole he felt pleasure in going back
to the life that he had elected to leave, and was very glad to forget
John's face in doing what he could to help him.

When he returned to the house John had commenced his restless walk
again. Swan was walking beside him, and he was slightly leaning his hand
on the old man's shoulder, as if to steady himself.

Valentine drew near.

"And you are sure he said nothing more?" John was saying in the low
inward tone of fatigue and exhaustion.

"No, sir. 'Tell Mr. Mortimer,' says he, 'that his son is considerable
better,' and he told Mrs. Walker--I heard him say it--that the blessed
little one was no worse,