Meanwhile, however, there was yet another consideration which disturbed the squire's meditations. Mrs. Goddard had a right to know that her husband was dying and, if she so pleased, she had a right to be at his bedside. But at the same time it would be necessary so to account for her presence as not to arouse Doctor Longstreet's suspicions, nor the comments of Holmes, the butler, and of his brigade in the servants' hall. It was no easy matter to do this unless Mrs. Goddard were accompanied by the vicar's wife, the excellent and maternally minded Mrs. Ambrose. To accomplish this it would be necessary to ask the latter lady to spend a great part of her time at the Hall in taking care of the wretched Goddard, who would again be the gainer. But Mrs. Ambrose was as yet ignorant of the fact that he had escaped from prison; she must be told then, and an effort must be made to elicit her sympathy. Perhaps she and the vicar would come and stop a few days, thought the squire. Mrs. Goddard might then come and go as she pleased. Her presence by her husband's bedside would then be accounted for on the ground of her charitable disposition. While Mr. Juxon was revolving these things in his mind he watched the doctor and John who were doing what was necessary for the sick man. Goddard moaned helplessly with every breath, in a loud, monotonous tone, very wearing to the nerves of those who heard it. "There is little to be done," said Doctor Longstreet at last. "He must be fed--alternately a little beef tea and then a little weak brandy and water. We must try and keep the system up. That is his only chance. I will prescribe something and send it back by the groom." "You are not going to leave us to-night?" exclaimed the squire in alarm. "Must. Very sorry. Bad case of diphtheria in town--probably die before morning, unless I get there in time--I would not have come here for any one else. I will certainly be here before ten--he will live till then, I fancy, and I don't believe there will be any change in his condition. Good-night, Mr. Juxon--beef tea and brandy every quarter of an hour. Good-night, Mr.--" he turned to John. "Short," said John. "Good-night, doctor." "Ah--I remember--used to be with Mr. Ambrose--yes. Delighted to meet you again, Mr. Short--good-night." The doctor vanished, before either the squire or John had time to follow him. His departure left an unpleasant sense of renewed responsibility in the squire's mind. "You had better go to bed, Mr. Short," he said kindly. "I will sit up with him."