“It was a very affecting scene, as ye may suppose, and my first words were, ‘Who is to tell this to Mr. Mortimer?’ They said your brother has already gone to fetch him and prepare him.  Well, I knew everything that was in the house, and where it was kept; so I’m thankful to think I was of use, and could help the new governess and the strange servants.

“Dorothea and Mrs. Henfrey soon came in, and by the time John arrived all the invalids had been carried up-stairs, and Johnnie had begun to show signs of consciousness.

“John was as white as chalk.  He was rather strange at first; he said in a commanding, peremptory way, that he wouldn’t be spoken to; he wouldn’t hear a word; he was not ready.  Everybody stood round, till Dorothea disobeyed him; she said, ‘They are all living, dear Mr. Mortimer;’ and then Giles got him to sit down, and they gave him some water to drink.

“He then noticed Dr. Limpsy, who had come down, and asked if any of them were in danger, and the doctor said yes—­one.  So he said he prayed God it was not his eldest son:  he could bear anything but that.  And yet when the doctor said he had every hope that Johnnie would do well, but he had great fears for the little Anastasia, he burst into tears, poor man, and said that of all his children she would be the hardest to spare.  But I need not tell ye we did not remind him of the inconsistency, and were glad to think he was not to lose the one he set his heart most upon.  And after that he was perfectly himself and more composed than anybody, which is a wonder, for such a catalogue of broken bones and sprains and contusions as came to light as the doctors examined further, was enough to disturb anybody’s courage.  Giles sat up with Johnnie all night; indeed nobody went to bed.  John was by Nancy, and in the morning they spoke hopefully of her.  Johnnie’s first words were about his father; he couldn’t bear his father near him, because now and then he was surprised into shouting out with pain, and he wouldn’t have John distressed with his noise.  He was nothing like so well as we had hoped this morning; but still the doctors say there is no danger.  He got a kick from the horse when he was down, and he thinks he fainted with the pain.  When John came down to get a little breakfast he was very much cheered to have a better account than he had expected of Nancy, and he made the remark that ye would be sorry to hear of this; so I said I would write, which I am doing, sitting beside little Bertram, who is asleep.—­I am

“Your mother’s affectionate aunt, and always affectionately yours,

“CHRISTIAN GRANT.”

Valentine read the letter, and thought that if it had not been for two or three picnic parties that he had on hand, he would have gone down to his old home, to see whether he could be of use to John Mortimer.  He wrote to him, and resolved to wait a day or two; but he heard nothing till after the succeeding Sunday; then a telegram came from Emily:—­“Two of John’s children are extremely ill.  I think your presence might be useful.”