“Oh, they are no better,” she said to herself; “for if they were better, Max wouldn’t hang his head like that.”

She stood still, watching him with a sinking heart as he came in at the gate and drew near her, still with his eyes cast down.  And now she perceived that his countenance was pale and distressed.

“O Max,” she cried, “are they worse?—­dying?  Oh, don’t say they are!”

“No; they are no better:  perhaps they may be to-morrow; but—­”

He stopped, his eyes full of tears as he lifted them for a moment to her face, his features working with emotion.

“Max, Max, what is it?” she asked, clutching at his arm.  “Oh, what is the matter?  You must tell me.”

“My father—­our father—­” He covered his face with his hands and sobbed aloud.

“O Max, what about papa?” she cried wildly.  “Oh, don’t say anything has happened to him!  I couldn’t bear it!—­oh I couldn’t!—­but I must know.  O Maxie, tell me what it is?”

She had put her arms round his neck and laid her cheek to his.  He returned the embrace, hugging her tightly to his breast.

“It mayn’t be true, Lu,” he said brokenly; “but oh, I’m afraid it is:  they say it’s feared his ship has gone down with all on board.”

“Gone down?” she repeated in a dazed tone, as if unable to believe in the possibility of so terrible a disaster.  “Gone down?”

“Yes, in the sea—­the dreadful sea!  O Lu, shall we ever see our father again in this world?”

“Do you mean that papa is drowned?  Oh, I can’t, I won’t have it so!  He’ll come back again, Max—­he surely will!  I couldn’t live without him, and neither could you, or Gracie; but oh maybe she will die too!  And I’m afraid it’s because I’m so bad; God is taking away everybody I love, because I don’t deserve to have them.  I’ve been disobeying my father by not doing as Grandpa Dinsmore bade me; and now maybe I haven’t any father to obey!  Oh, Max, Max, what shall I do? everybody’s being taken away!”

“I’m left, Lu,” he said, brushing away a tear; “I’m left to you, and you’re left to me; and we don’t know certainly yet, that anybody is really taken from us, or going to be.”

“Oh,” she cried lifting her head, which had dropped upon his shoulder as he held her closely clasped in his arms, “I’ll stop being so bad; I’ll be good and do as Grandpa Dinsmore has ordered me, and maybe God will forgive me and spare papa and Gracie and the baby.  Do you think he will, Max?”

“Perhaps; you remember how ill papa was when you were obstinate and disobedient to him once before, and you gave up and did as he bade you, and we all prayed for papa and he got well?”

“Yes, oh yes, I’ll do it now, this minute; I can’t go to Viamede to tell Grandpa Dinsmore, but I’ll write a little note, Max, and you can carry it to him.”

“I have a note-book in my pocket, pencil too,” he said, pulling them out in haste to get the thing done, lest her mood should change.  “I’ll tear out a leaf and you can write on that.  Grandpa Dinsmore won’t mind what kind of paper it is so the words are there.”