Emily had come home then.

Valentine set forth at once, and reached John Mortimer’s house in the afternoon.  A doctor’s carriage stood at the door; a strange lady—­evidently a nurse—­passed through the hall; people were quietly moving about, but they seemed too anxious, and too much occupied to observe him.

At last Emily came down.

“Is Johnnie worse?” asked Valentine.

“Yes; but I wanted you to help us with John.  Oh, such a disaster!  On the third night after the accident, just before I arrived—­for Dorothea had sent for me—­every one in the house was greatly tired; but Johnnie and Anastasia were both thought better; so much better that the doctors said if there was no change during the night, they should consider dear little Nancy quite out of danger.  Giles and Dorothea had gone home.  The nurse sent for was not come.  John knew how fatigued the whole household was, and all who were sitting up.  He had not been able to take any sleep himself, and he was restlessly pacing up and down in the garden, watching and listening under the open windows.  It was very hot.

“He fancied about three o’clock that there had been a long silence in Anastasia’s room.  She was to have nourishment frequently.  He stole up-stairs, found the person with her asleep from fatigue, gave the child some jelly himself, and then finding her medicine, as he supposed, ready poured out in the wine-glass, he gave it to her, and discovered almost instantly a mistake.  The sad imprudence had been committed of pouring the lotion for the child’s temples into a wine-glass, to save the trouble of ringing for a saucer.  The child was almost out of danger before that terrible night; but when I came home there was scarcely a hope of her life, and her father was almost distracted.  I mean that, though he seems perfectly calm, never loses his self-control, he is very often not 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.