As for Jael, she brought in the bust, and then sat down with her bonnet on, quaking; for she felt sure that, in such a dismal dearth of conversation, Miss Carden would be certain to turn round very soon, and say, “Well, Jael, you can go now.”

But this Quaker’s meeting was interrupted by a doctor looking in to prescribe for Miss Carden’s cold.  The said cold was imperceptible to vulgar eyes, but Grace had detected it, and had written to her friend, Dr. Amboyne, to come and make it as imperceptible to herself as to the spectator.

In rolled the doctor, and was not a little startled at sight of Little.

“Hallo!” cried be.  “What, cured already?  Cairnhope forever!” He then proceeded to feel his pulse instead of Miss Carden’s, and inspect his eye, at which Grace Carden stared.

“What, is he unwell?”

“Why, a man does not get blown up with gunpowder without some little disturbance of the system.”

“Blown up with gunpowder!  What do you mean?”

“What, have you not heard about it?  Don’t you read the newspapers?”

“No; never.”

“Merciful powers!  But has he not told you?”

“No; he tells us nothing.”

“Then I’ll tell you, it is of no use your making faces at me.  There is no earthly reason why she should be kept in the dark.  These Hillsborough trades want to drive this young man out of town:  why—­is too long and intricate for you to follow.  He resists this tyranny, gently, but firmly.”

“I’d resist it furiously,” said Grace.

“The consequence is, they wrote him several threatening letters; and, at last, some caitiff put gunpowder into his forge; it exploded, and blew him out of a second-floor window.”

“Oh! oh!” screamed Grace Carden and Jael; and by one womanly impulse they both put their hands before their faces, as if to shut out the horrible picture.

“What is that for?” said the doctor.  “You see he is all right now.  But, I promise you, he cut a very different figure when I saw him directly afterward; he was scorched as black as a coal—­”

“Oh, doctor, don’t; pray don’t.  Oh, sir, why did you not tell me?”

“And his face bleeding,” continued the merciless doctor.

“Oh dear! oh dear!” And the sweet eyes were turned, all swimming in water upon Henry, with a look of angelic pity.

“His nerves were terribly shaken, but there were no bones broken.  I said to myself, ’He must sleep or go mad, and he will not sleep in the town that has blown him up.’  I just drove the patient off to peace and pure air, and confided him to one of the best creatures in England—­Martha Dence.”

Jael uttered an exclamation of wonder, which drew attention to her and her glowing cheeks.

“Oh yes, Miss Jael,” said Henry, “I was going to tell you.  I have been a fortnight with your people, and, if I live a hundred years, I shall not forget their goodness to me.  God bless them.”