"I entrust you with these two packets. I had them ready. The money is for the--for my sister. Let her have decent black, and proper mourning; and there are two guineas for the funeral of--her father. But," Griselda said, with a strange pang of self-reproach she could not have defined, as she felt how little the death of her father and her sister's sorrow weighed in the balance against an aching fear and anxiety about Mr. Travers--"but this letter I want you to put into the hands of Mr. Leslie Travers in King Street. For this--oh! I would reward you in any way that you desire. Bring me an answer back, and I will owe you eternal gratitude. Do you hear?" Yes, Brian heard. It seemed all but impossible that this tall, beautiful lady should clasp her hands as a suppliant to him. His large, honest eyes sought hers, and the appeal in them touched his boyish heart. "I will do what you wish, madam, and as quickly as I can." "Thank you--I thank you, dear boy, with all my heart. Oh, that you may bring back a word to comfort me!--for I am shadowed with the cloud of coming, as well as past, misfortune; and I scarce know how to be patient till the pain of suspense is relieved." Then, laying her hand on Brian's shoulder, she said: "Promise to see Mr. Travers, and put the letter in his hand." And Brian promised, and kept his promise faithfully. CHAPTER XVI. IN THE EARLY MORNING. Griselda returned to her room to watch the timepiece, and listen for the striking of the Abbey clock, as the slow hours passed, and she paced the floor in her restlessness from the fireplace to the window, and then back again from the window to the fire. About ten o'clock Graves came in with a cup of chocolate, and to tell her that Mr. Cheyne, the doctor, had seen Lady Betty, and pronounced her really ill this time. She was to keep in bed, and if not better on the following day, he must let blood from her arm. "Do you know the doctor, Miss Griselda--this young Doctor Cheyne?" "I may have spoken to him. Yes, I have seen him; but what is he to me?" "He asked for you, that's all," said Graves; "how you did, and whether----" Graves stopped. It was a habit of hers to break off suddenly in her speech, and Griselda scarcely noticed it. "_Is_ the boy, Brian Bellis, come back?" "No, Miss Griselda; he won't be here again to-night. I hear he is nephew to the Miss Hoblyns, the mantua-makers, and that they look sharp after him; they would not let him run about the streets at midnight." "Midnight! It's not midnight! Oh, Graves, I am so tired!" "Go to bed, and sleep till morning; that is my advice to you, and read a verse in God's Word to go to sleep on. You'll never know rest till you find it in the Lord, my dear. Let me help you to undress." "No, I am not going to bed. Promise, Graves, if Brian Bellis comes to the door with a letter you will bring it here. Promise----" Graves nodded her head in token of assent, and departed.