On this Sunday afternoon, when she and Rosaline were sitting together after dinner, Mr. Blase Pellet walked in. Rosaline only wished she could walk out. She would far rather have done so. But she forced herself to be civil to him. "Look here," said Blase, taking a newspaper out of his pocket when he had sat some minutes. "This advertisement must concern those Raynors that you know of. I'll read it to you." "'Lost. Lost. A small carved ebony desk. Was last seen at Eagles' Nest in the month of June more than two years ago. Any one giving information of where it may be found, or bringing it to Mr. Street, solicitor, of Lawyers' Row, shall receive ten guineas reward.' "Those Raynors, you know, came into the Eagles' Nest property, and then had to turn out of it again," added Blase. "Ten guineas reward for an ebony desk!" commented Mrs. Bell. "I wonder what was in it?" Blase did not receive an invitation to stay tea this afternoon, though he probably expected it. However, he was not one to intrude unwished for, and took his departure. "I had a great mind to ask him what he meant by the remark he made the other evening about your poor father," said Mrs. Bell to Rosaline as he went out. "Oh, mother, let it be!" exclaimed Rosaline in piteous tones, her pale face turning hectic. "He cannot know anything that would bring peace to you or me." "Well, I should like my tea now," said Dame Bell. "And I should have asked him to stay, Rose, but for your ungracious looks." Rosaline busied herself with the tea, which they took almost in silence. While putting the things away afterwards, Rosaline made some remark: which was not answered. Supposing her mother did not hear, she spoke again. Still there came no reply, and Rose looked round. Mrs. Bell was lying back on the sofa, apparently insensible. "It was the pain, child," she breathed, when Rosaline had revived her; but she had not quite fainted; "the sharp, sudden pain here. I never had it, I think, as badly as that." Like a ghost she was still, with a pinched look in her face. Rosaline was frightened. Without saying anything to her mother, she wrote a hasty line to Frank, to ask if he would come round, twisted it up three-cornered fashion, and despatched it by the landlady's daughter. The note arrived just as Frank Raynor and his wife were beginning to think of setting out for evening service. Frank chanced to have gone into a small back-room near the kitchen, where he kept his store of drugs, and Daisy was alone when Sam came in, the note held between his fingers. "For master, please, ma'am; and it is to be given to him directly." With an impatient word--for Daisy knew what these hastily-written, unsealed missives meant, and she did not care to go to church at night alone--she untwisted it, and read the contents. "Dear Mr. Raynor, "If you could possibly come round this evening, I should be very much obliged to you. My mother has been taken suddenly worse, and I do not like her looks at all.