sudden alarm in the young lady’s mind, excited by her friends, whom he had always observed to be prejudiced against him.  He appealed strongly against the hardship of being imprisoned on so slight a charge; but, as he could find no one to take his part, he reserved his defence for the quarter sessions, for which he was fully committed.  Colin thought, however, that it was so doubtful whether the charges against him could be substantiated, that it was highly necessary to be fully prepared to press the former forgery against him, and had therefore decided upon sleeping at St. Norbert’s and going on by an early train to obtain legal advice in London, and then to see Harry Beauchamp.  Meantime, Ermine must write to her brother as urgently as possible, backing up Colin’s own representations of the necessity of his return.

Ermine read eagerly, but Alison seemed hardly able to command her attention to listen, and scarcely waited for the end of the letter before her own disclosure was made.  Francis was sickening with diphtheria; he had been left behind in the morning on account of some outbreak of peevishness, and Alison, soon becoming convinced that temper was not solely in fault, had kept him apart from his brothers, and at last had sent for the doctor, who had at once pronounced it to be the same deadly complaint which had already declared itself in Rachel Curtis.  Alison had of course devoted herself to the little boy till his mother’s return from St. Norbert’s, when she had been obliged to give the first intimation of what the price of the loving little widow’s exploit might be.  “I don’t think she realizes the extent of the illness,” said Alison; “say what I would, she would keep on thanking me breathlessly, and only wanting to escape to him.  I asked if we should send to let Colin know, and she answered in her dear, unselfish way, ’By no means, it would be safer for him to be out of the way,’ and, besides, she knew how much depended on his going.”

“She is right,” said Ermine; “I am thankful that he is out of reach of trying to take a share in the nursing, it is bad enough to have one in the midst!”

“Yes,” said Alison.  “Lady Temple cannot be left to bear this grievous trouble alone, and when the Homestead cannot help her.  Yet, Ermine, what can be done?  Is it safe for you and Rose?”

“Certainly not safe that you should come backwards and forwards,” said Ermine.  “Rose must not be put in danger; so, dear, dear Ailie, you had better take your things up, and only look in on us now and then at the window.”

Alison entirely broke down.  “Oh, Ermine, Ermine, since you began to mend, not one night have we been apart!”

“Silly child,” said Ermine, straining her quivering voice to be cheerful, “I am strong, and Rose is my best little handmaid.”

“I know it is right,” said Alison, “I could not keep from my boys, and, indeed, now Colin is gone, I do not think any one at Myrtlewood will have the heart to carry out the treatment.  It will almost kill that dear young mother to see it.  No, they cannot be left; but oh, Ermine, it is like choosing between you and them.”