woke up by such a message.

"Why, Frank, my darling boy, what is it?" she cried, as the boy shrank
from her eyes when she embraced him affectionately. "You are ill! No;
in trouble! I can see it in your eyes. Look up at me, my boy, and be
in nature what you are by name. You were right to come to me. There,
sit down by my side, and let it be always so--boy or man, let me always
be your _confidante_, and I will forgive you and advise you if I can."

Frank was silent, but he clung to her, trembling.

"Speak to me, dear," she said, drawing him to her and kissing his
forehead; "it cannot be anything very dreadful--only some escapade."

His lips parted, but no words would come, and he shivered at the thought
of undeceiving her.

"Come, come, dear," she whispered, "there is no one to hear you but I;
and am I not your mother?"

"Yes, but--"

That was all. He could say no more.

"Frank, my boy, why do you hesitate?" she whispered, as she passed her
soft, warm hand over his forehead, which was wet and cold. "Come, speak
out like a brave lad. A boy of your age should be manly, and if he has
done wrong own to it, and be ready to bear the reproof or punishment he
has earned. Come, let me help you."

"You help me?" he gasped.

"Yes, I think I can. You dined at the mess last night; your face is
flushed and feverish, your head is hot, and your hands wet and cold.
Phoebe tells me that in her sleep she heard you ringing at the bell soon
after five. Is this so?"

"Yes," he said with his eyes and a quick nod of the head.

"Hah! And am I right in saying that you have had scarcely any or no
sleep during the night?"

He nodded again quickly, and felt as if it would be impossible to try
and set his mother right.

"Hah! I am angry with you. I feel that I ought to be. There has been
some escapade. Your father would have watched over you while he was
there. It must have been afterwards--Andrew Forbes and some of the wild
young officers. Yes, I see it now; and I never warned you against such
a peril, though it is real enough, I fear."

"Oh, mother, mother!" groaned the boy in agony.

"I knew it," she said sternly; "they have led you away to some card- or
dice-playing, and you have lost. Now you are fully awake to your
folly."

The boy made a brave effort to speak out, but still no words would come.

"Well," said Lady Gowan, taking his hand to hold it firmly between her
own.

But he was still silent.