It was so sudden, so unexpected, that none of the household seemed able to comprehend it. As to Hill, she bustled about like one demented. A large table was placed at the west wing door, and things likely to be wanted in the sickroom were carried up and put there, ready to her hand. The physician, a Dr. Amos, arrived in the afternoon, the carriage having been sent to await him at the Hetton terminus. A slight-made man, dressed in black, with a Roman nose, and glasses resting on it. Hickens marshalled him to the door of the west wing, where Hill received him. He stayed a long while; but they said he was taking refreshments as well as seeing his patient. The servants all liked Mr. Chandos, and they stood peeping in doorways, anxious for the doctor to come out. Hill came down and caught them, a jug in hand. "Hill, do wait a moment and tell me!" I cried, as they flew away. "Does he find Mr. Chandos dangerously ill?" "There's a change for the better," she answered. "Mr. Chandos will be about again to-morrow or next day. For goodness sake don't keep me with questions now, Miss Hereford!" Not I. I did not care to keep her after that good news; and I ran away as light as a bird. The carriage drew up to the portico and Dr. Amos came down to it attended by Hickens and Hill. After he passed the parlour-door, I looked out of it, and saw Mr. Dexter come up. He had heard the news of Mr. Chandos's illness, and had come to inquire after him. Seeing the gentleman, who carried physician in his every look, about to step into the carriage, Mr. Dexter had no difficulty in divining who he was. Raising his hat, he accosted him. "I hope, sir, you have not found Mr. Harry Chandos seriously ill?" "Mr. Harry Chandos is very ill indeed!—very ill!" replied Dr. Amos, who appeared to be a pleasant man. "I fear there are but faint hopes of him." "Good heavens!" cried the thunderstruck agent when he was able to speak. "But faint hopes? How awfully sudden it must have come on!" "Sudden? Not at all. It has been coming on for some time. He may have grown rapidly worse, if you mean that. In saying but faint hopes, I mean, of course, of his eventual recovery. He'll not be quite laid by yet." Dr. Amos entered the carriage with the last words, and it drove away, leaving his hearers to digest them; leaving me, I know, with a mist before my eyes and pulses that had ceased to beat. Hill's sharp tones broke the silence, bearing harshly upon Mr. Dexter. "What on earth need _you_ have interfered for? Can't a doctor come and go from a place but he must be smothered with questions? If you have got anything to ask, you can ask me." "Why, Mrs. Hill, what do you mean?" remonstrated the agent. "I intended no harm, and I have done no harm. But what a pitiable thing about Mr. Chandos!"