My attendant had almost suspended operations during the conversation, for though her tongue went fast enough her hands were idle, and I was a too deeply interested listener to notice the lapse of time. I hastened to make up for lost minutes, and went downstairs with a troubled face, and little appetite for the coming meal. A glance at Norman's face confirmed my fears as to the truth of what I had heard. He was evidently ill at ease, and though Stephen tried hard to keep up a cheerful conversation, he failed ignominiously. He could not feel indifferent as to the result of Norman's escapade, or ignore my brother's evident depression. When the servants had left the room, Norman made an excuse for his dulness. "I have a stupid headache," he began; but I interrupted him. "Heartache, you mean, Norman. Why did you try to hide it, dear, instead of letting Lucy and me share your troubles, whether small or great? It is useless to try and keep secrets in a place like this. The whole village is in a state of excitement about your coming 'trial.' And though it is not quite a 'hanging matter,' as reported, it is serious enough to cloud my dear brother's brow and make him anxious." My allusion to the "extreme penalty of the law" did good service by giving a ludicrous aspect to the affair, and both Norman and Steve burst into a hearty laugh. "No, Berty, they surely do not think your brother will pay for his fault with his life! That is quite too ridiculous," said Stephen, wiping mirthful moisture from his eyes. Another prolonged laugh followed, and I was glad that I had repeated Ellen's absurd tale, since it had chased the cloud from Norman's brow for the moment. When he could speak, he told me all. "I only wished to save you and Lucy from over-anxiety," he said. "You know, dear, I have perfect confidence in you both." "Not enough to understand that there is truer kindness in letting us share the trouble of those we love than in hiding it, Norman," I replied, as I stood with my arm round his neck, and his bonnie curly head resting on my shoulder. Then we three resolutely strove to put aside our gloomy forebodings, and to talk as if doubts and fears were strangers to our minds. If we had peeped just then into the housekeeper's room, we should have seen the good dame and my waiting-damsel mingling their tears as they sipped their tea together. The elder woman was bemoaning Mr. Norman's rashness, which had brought disaster and shame on King's Court. "And only ten days off Christmas! What a contrast it will be this year to old happy Christmases which I have spent here, seeing I came a girl in the time of Mr. Norman's grandfather! Mourning instead of feasting and making everybody happy. To think I should live to see it!"