“Half-past eight,” said she, shuddering, as she saw how late it was. “Before eleven, I promise you confidently,--and earlier if I can.” “You know my father so very little--so very recently,” said Sybella, with some confusion, “that it may be necessary to guard you,--that is, you ought to be made aware that on this day the estate our family has held for centuries was sold. It is true we are no poorer than we were yesterday; the property we called our own, and from habit believed to be such, had been mortgaged this many a year. Why or how we ever fancied that one day or other we should be in a position to pay off the encumbrances, I cannot tell you; but it is true that we did so fancy, and used to talk of that happy event as of one we felt to be in store for us. Well, the blow has fallen at last, and demolished all our castle-building! Like storm-tossed vessels, we saw ships sinking on every side, and yet caught at hope for ourselves. This hope has now left us. The work of this morning has obliterated every trace of it. It is of this, then, I would ask you to be mindful when you see my poor father. He has seen ruin coming this many a year; it never came face to face with him till to-day. I cannot tell how he may brave it, though there was a time I could have answered for his courage.” “Jack Kellett's father could scarcely be deficient in that quality,” said Conway, whose flashing eyes showed that it was Jack's sister was uppermost in his mind as he spoke. “Oh,” said she, sorrowfully, “great as the heroism is that meets death on the field of battle, it is nothing to the patient and enduring bravery that confronts the daily ills of life,--confronts them nobly, but in humility, neither buoyed up by inordinate hope, nor cast down by despondency, but manfully resolved to do one's best, and, come what may, to do it without sacrifice of self-respect. Thus meeting fate, and with a temper that all the crosses of life have not made irritable nor suspectful, makes a man to my eyes a greater hero than any of those who charge in forlorn hopes, or single-handed rush up the breach torn by grape-shot.” Her cheek, at first pale, grew deeper and deeper red, and her dark eyes flashed till their expression became almost wild in brilliancy, when, suddenly checking her passionate mood, she said, “It were better I should go along with you,--better, at least, I were at hand. He will bear much from me that he would not endure from another, and I will go.” So saying, she hastened from the room, and in a moment came back shawled and ready for the road. “What a night for you to venture out,” said Conway; “and I have got no carriage of any kind.” “I am well accustomed to brave bad weather, and care nothing for it.” “It is raining fearfully, and the waves are washing clear over the low sea-wall,” said he, trying to dissuade her.