The two girls, their cheeks tingling with the bite of the east wind, tramped bravely through the slush, with no greater sense of inconvenience than was caused by the fact that they would be obliged to perform the journey by the road instead of taking the short-cut through the Forest. They spoke little, for each was occupied with her own troublous thoughts; Pansy did not know much of the sources of her friend’s anxieties, and Madge had already exhausted the consolation she could offer to her companion. On arriving at Ringsford they found Sam Culver attending to his plants and greenhouses as methodically as if the mansion stood as sound as ever it had done and the daily supply of fruit and flowers would be required as usual. Madge left Pansy with her father, and went on to the cottage. In the kitchen she found Miss Hadleigh fast asleep in the gardener’s big armchair. She would have left the room without disturbing her, but at that moment Miss Hadleigh yawned and awakened. ‘Don’t go away; I am not sleeping.—Oh, it’s you, Madge. Isn’t this a dreadful state of things? I haven’t had a wink of sleep for two nights, and feel as if I should drop on the floor in hysterics or go off into a fever.’ Miss Hadleigh had been relieved by a good many ‘winks’ during the period specified, although, like many other nurses, she was convinced that she had not closed her eyes all the time. Madge accepted the assertion literally, and was instantly all eagerness to relieve her. ‘You must get away to Willowmere at once, and take a proper rest. You are not to refuse, for I will take your place here and do whatever may be required. You are looking so ill, Beatrice, that I am sure Philip and—somebody else would consider me an unfeeling creature if I allowed you to stay any longer.’ ‘But it is my duty to stay, dear,’ said Miss Hadleigh a little faintly, for she did not like to hear that she was looking ill. ‘And it is my duty to relieve you. Besides, Dr Joy has given us some hope that it may be safe to remove your father to our house to-day; and then you will be there, refreshed and ready to receive him.’ ‘I suppose you are right—I am not fit for much at present,’ said Miss Hadleigh languidly; ‘and you can do everything for him a great deal better than I can. But I must wait till Philip comes—he promised to be here early.’ ‘You have heard from him, then?’ ‘Heard from him!—he was here last night as soon as he could get away from that nasty business he has been swindled into by our nice Uncle Shield. He ought to have taken poor papa’s advice at the beginning, and have had nothing to do with him.’ This was uttered so spitefully, that it seemed as if there were an undercurrent of satisfaction in the young lady’s mind at finding that the rich uncle who would only acknowledge one member of the family, had turned out a deceiver.