He left Liz weeping over the dead body of her father. How paltry all other troubles seemed to be, as she did so. She had no power, at that moment, to realise any fact but one,--that he had left her, and without a warning. He, who had been her sole protector and companion, beside whom she had walked every moment of her life, sharing his knowledge, and his duties, and his cares, had gone forth into the dreamland without her, and for the future she must struggle through life as best she might, alone. Liz was not ignorant of the cause of her father’s death, but she had been quite unprepared for it. She had known for some time past that he had a weak heart, but men lived with such, sometimes to their three score years and ten. He had passed a tranquil and unexciting life. The passions which had raged stormily perhaps in his youth had forsaken him in his latter days, and he had appeared likely to live on to a good old age. But the events of the last week had greatly upset him. Liz had no doubt, as she looked at his pale, calm features, that his sudden death lay, in a great measure, at Maraquita’s door, and the fact did not make her feel more tenderly towards her adopted sister. But the infant was wailing in her arms, and she felt that something must be done at once. This was no time for weeping, or inaction. She turned on her heel, with set features, and teeth closely clenched together, and passed into the outer room to summon her negress attendant Chloe to her aid. Chloe was conspicuous only by her absence, but on the threshold of the outer door she found the yellow girl, Rosa, slowly rocking herself to and fro. ‘What are you doing here?’ demanded Lizzie sternly. ‘Have you not brought me into enough trouble already?’ The girl turned round and caught the folds of her dress, and buried her face in them, crying. The coloured people are very emotional, and a sudden remorse had stabbed the depths of poor Rosa’s heart. ‘Oh, Miss Lizzie,’ she sobbed, ‘I’se so sorry the poor Doctor dead! Massa Courcelles tell me so as he went out. The dear good Doctor, who was so berry kind to me in my sickness, and so good to my little Carlo, and now he gone too, and me nebber see him any more, and my heart is broke, Miss Liz, my heart is broke!’ This tribute to her dead father’s virtues affected Liz more than anything else could have done. ‘If _you_ are so sorry for his loss, Rosa,’ she answered gently, ‘what do you suppose _I_ must feel. I seem to have lost everything to-day--_everything_,’ she added, in a vague and weary tone. ‘Oh, Missy Liz, I’se so sorry!’ repeated Rosa. ‘But what can I do to help you, and to take some of dis trouble off you? Let me do something, Missy Liz, to show I’se real sorry.’ ‘You can go up to the White House, Rosa, and tell Mr Courtney of--of--_this_, and say I should like to see him as soon as he can come to me. I can’t find Chloe anywhere.’