‘I am sure there is enough to make any one ill,’ said Emily, in her deplorable tone; ’I thought this poor parish had had its share of illness, with the scarlet fever, and now it has turned to a horrible typhus fever.’

‘Indeed!’ said Claude.  ‘Where?  Who?’

’Oh! the Naylors, and the Rays, and the Walls.  John Ray died this morning, and they do not think that Tom Naylor will live.’

‘Well,’ interrupted Lord Rotherwood, ’I shall not stop to hear any more of this chapter of accidents.  I am off, but mind, remember the 30th, and do not any of you frighten yourselves into the fever.’

He went, and Lily now spoke.  ’There is one thing in all this, Claude, that is matter of joy, Tom Naylor has sent for Robert.’

‘Then, Lily, I do most heartily congratulate you.’

‘I hope things may go better,’ said Lily, with tears in her eyes.  ’The poor baby is with its grandmother.  Mrs. Naylor is ill too, and every one is so afraid of the fever that nobody goes near them but Robert, and Mrs. Eden, and old Dame Martin.  Robert says Naylor is in a satisfactory frame—­determined on having the baby christened—­but, oh!  I am afraid the christening is to be bought by something terrible.’

‘I do not think those fevers are often very infectious,’ said Claude.

‘So papa says,’ replied Emily; ’but Robert looks very ill.  He is wearing himself out with sitting up.  Making himself nurse as well as everything else.’

This was very distressing, but still Claude scarcely thought it accounted for the change that had taken place in Lilias.  Her cheek was pale, her eye heavy, her voice had lost its merry tone; Claude knew that she had had much to grieve her, but he was as yet far from suspecting how she was overworked and harassed.  He spoke of Eleanor’s return, and she did not brighten; she smiled sadly at his attempts to cheer her, and he became more and more anxious about her.  He was not long in discovering what was the matter.

The second day after his return Robert told them at the churchyard gate that Tom Naylor was beginning to mend, and this seemed to be a great comfort to Lily, who walked home with a blither step than usual.  Claude betook himself to the study, and saw no more of his sisters till two o’clock, when Lily appeared, with the languid, dejected look which she had lately worn, and seemed to find it quite an effort to keep the tears out of her eyes.  Ada and Phyllis were in very high spirits, because they were going to Raynham with Emily and Jane, and at every speech of Ada’s Lily looked more grieved.  After the Raynham party were gone Claude began to look for Lily.  He found her in her room, an evening dress spread on the bed, a roll of ribbon in one hand, and with the other supporting her forehead, while tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks.

‘Lily, my dear, what is the matter?’

‘Oh! nothing, nothing, Claude,’ said she, quickly.