The horrible apparition did confound Ripton, who stammered that it was extraordinary.

“Not at all,” said Algernon.  “Everybody makes up to that fellow.  Instinct, I suppose!”

He had not to ask for his nephew.  Richard turned to face the matter.

“Sorry I couldn’t wait for you this morning, uncle,” he said, with the coolness of relationship.  “I thought you never walked so far.”

His voice was in perfect tone—­the heroic mask admirable.

Algernon examined the downcast visage at his side, and contrived to allude to the popular preacher.  He was instantly introduced to Ripton’s sister, Miss Thompson.

The Captain bowed, smiling melancholy approval of his nephew’s choice of a minister.  After a few stray remarks, and an affable salute to Miss Thompson, he hobbled away, and then the three sealed volcanoes breathed, and Lucy’s arm ceased to be squeezed quite so much up to the heroic pitch.

This incident quickened their steps homeward to the sheltering wings of Mrs. Berry.  All that passed between them on the subject comprised a stammered excuse from Ripton for his conduct, and a good-humoured rejoinder from Richard, that he had gained a sister by it:  at which Ripton ventured to wish aloud Miss Desborough would only think so, and a faint smile twitched poor Lucy’s lips to please him.  She hardly had strength to reach her cage.  She had none to eat of Mrs. Berry’s nice little dinner.  To be alone, that she might cry and ease her heart of its accusing weight of tears, was all she prayed for.  Kind Mrs. Berry, slipping into her bedroom to take off her things, found the fair body in a fevered shudder, and finished by undressing her completely and putting her to bed.

“Just an hour’s sleep, or so,” the mellifluous woman explained the case to the two anxious gentlemen.  “A quiet sleep and a cup of warm tea goes for more than twenty doctors, it do—­when there’s the flutters,” she pursued.  “I know it by myself.  And a good cry beforehand’s better than the best of medicine.”

She nursed them into a make-believe of eating, and retired to her softer charge and sweeter babe, reflecting, “Lord!  Lord! the three of ’em don’t make fifty!  I’m as old as two and a half of ’em, to say the least.”  Mrs. Berry used her apron, and by virtue of their tender years took them all three into her heart.

Left alone, neither of the young men could swallow a morsel.

“Did you see the change come over her?” Richard whispered.

Ripton fiercely accused his prodigious stupidity.

The lover flung down his knife and fork:  “What could I do?  If I had said nothing, we should have been suspected.  I was obliged to speak.  And she hates a lie!  See! it has struck her down.  God forgive me!”

Ripton affected a serene mind:  “It was a fright, Richard,” he said.  “That’s what Mrs. Berry means by flutters.  Those old women talk in that way.  You heard what she said.  And these old women know.  I’ll tell you what it is.  It’s this, Richard!—­it’s because you’ve got a fool for your friend!”