Angel shuddered and turned pale as she listened to his tale; Mrs. Vallance made no comments, but her face expressed plainly what she thought of his conduct. She carried off his wet clothes to dry, and left the children by themselves for a while. When she was alone with her brother, Angel sat down on a chair by his bedside, and, laying her head on his pillow, wept without restraint. She was so disappointed in him; and beyond the fact that he had broken his word to her, and again been disobedient, was the thought that he had brought trouble upon the Mickles. "Oh, poor, dear little Dora!" she cried presently. "How brave of her to try to save you! Oh, Gerald, how I wish I knew how she was! She was quite unconscious, you say?" "Yes. Hope promised faithfully to come back and let me know what his father thought about her," Gerald replied; "but perhaps he won't," he added, with a miserable sob. "Oh, how the Mickles will all hate me if Dora dies!" "Oh, don't talk like that! I can't bear to hear you." "Can't you pray for her?" Gerald asked suddenly. "I daren't pray myself. I'm too wicked." "Oh no! You must pray with me, Gerald." Angel knelt down by the bedside, and put her earnest petition that Dora's life might be spared into simple words; then she repeated the Lord's prayer, and Gerald, though he uttered no sound, joined with her in his heart. The storm increased in fury, so that the children thought it extremely doubtful if Reginald Hope would keep his word and return to Haresdown House that night. At last, when they had given up expecting him, there was a ring at the front door bell, and Polly went to answer it. It was not Reginald, however, but his father, who explained that Mrs. Mickle had asked him to call and see Gerald, for she felt very anxious about him, especially as Mr. Willis was from home. "How's Dora?" asked Gerald, almost breathless with suspense, as the doctor entered his room. "Better," was the prompt response, "and sleeping peacefully, I'm pleased to say. And how are you after your ducking, my boy? That son of mine ought not to have taken you to the clay pits. I had warned him not to go there." "I had been forbidden to go there too," Gerald admitted. "Humph!" The doctor made no other comment. He felt Gerald's pulse, took his temperature, administered a dose of soothing medicine which he had brought with him, and then went downstairs, followed by Mrs. Vallance, who thanked him for calling. "The boy will most probably be all right to-morrow," he told her; "you have done everything that was necessary under the circumstances; he is not in the least feverish, and very likely will not even have a cold as punishment for his disobedience. I shall send Reginald to a good, strict boarding-school next term, where I hope he will be taught to obey." And the doctor went out into the storm again, whilst the housekeeper returned to Gerald's room.