"Well," said Ethel, rousing herself, "I don't believe it is as bad as this. I don't think it can be. I'll go up and find out." She went out of the room, but she tottered very badly as she went up the stairs, glancing behind her as though fearful of her own shadow. There was a light in the spare room; the door was partly open. She peeped in. Dr Anstruther was there. He was pacing up and down. "Ah!" he said, when he saw Ethel's face. "Come in." He looked at her again, and then said quietly--"Sit down." He went to the table, poured something into a glass, mixed it with water, and brought it to the girl. "Drink this," he said. "I don't want to," replied Ethel. "Drink it at once," said the doctor. She obeyed; it was strong sal volatile and water. "Now," he said, "you clearly understand that the duty you have to perform to-night in this house, is absolutely to forget yourself-- obliterate yourself if necessary. Don't do one single thing that you are told not to do, and if you can, keep your sisters in the background. You may all be wanted at any moment, or you may not. You are not, any of you, to go to your mother's room without my permission. Don't think of yourselves at all. If there is any way in which you can help the servants, do it, but do it quietly, and don't become hysterical; don't add to the trouble in the house to-night." "But we have all neglected her--" "You can tell your clergyman that in the morning--you can tell your God to-night--it is not my affair. I have to do with the present. Act now with obedience, with utter quiet, with calm, with self-restraint. Go down now and tell your sisters what I have said." "I will," said Ethel. She went out of the room. "Poor child!" thought Dr Anstruther. "I had to be hard on her to keep her up; she'd have broken down otherwise. God grant that those girls have not a rude awakening--they very nearly did have it--God help them, poor things." When Mr Aldworth and Horace returned late that evening, it was the doctor who drew the poor husband into his own study and told him the truth. He concealed as much as possible of the girls' conduct; he admitted that Mrs Aldworth had been neglected during the day, but he made the best of it. "In any case," he said, "this attack was quite likely to come. Had there been any one near her it might not have been so prolonged, and the consequences would not have been so serious; but it was bound to come." "And Marcia?" said the father then. "Oh, she is all right, she is a brick--she is one in a thousand." CHAPTER ELEVEN. REPENTANCE AND AFTERWARDS. The three girls found themselves in their own bedroom. "Don't turn up the light," said Ethel. "Let's sit in the dark." "It doesn't matter," said Molly, "we'd best have the light, we may be wanted." "Yes, I forgot that," replied Ethel.