A short distance from the gate was a small copse wood, which Louisa entered, and, throwing herself down on the grassy bank beside a stream, gave way to a storm of passionate grief. "Oh, Arthur, Arthur!" she sobbed, "how desolate is Louisa in this cold, cruel world." The storm of grief would have its way, nor did she strive to check it, but continued sobbing convulsively, and shivered with cold, though it was a balmy autumn day; the icy chill at her heart seemed to affect her body also. When at length she became more calm, she began to consider what course she should next pursue. She turned out her scanty store of money--fifteen and sixpence was the whole amount. She determined to return to the inn, where she had left the small bag (the sole remnant of the numerous trunks, etc., with which they had left ----), and remain there that night, and start next day for Brierley, the present abode of her grandfather, and try her luck in that quarter, but with small hope of success. Not for herself would she have done this, for she trembled at the thought of meeting him, but circumstances made it imperative. CHAPTER XIX. "Please maam, is baby to go for her walk this morning," asked the nurse as Louis and Natalie sat at breakfast, "Oh no Sarah," returned Natalie. "Why not, I should like to know," interposed Louis, "it is a beautiful day and will do her good, I can't see how it is that you always set your face against her going out." "Oh but Louis, you know she has a bad cold." "Well it will do her cold good, I can't think where you got the idea, that going out is bad for a cold. Take her out Sarah." "But Louis I'm afraid it will rain." "Rain, nonsense, what are you dreaming of this bright morning, take her out by all means Sarah, it will do her good." Natalie gazed uneasily at the dark storm cloud in the horizon and was anything but satisfied. "Why Natie you look as sober as a judge" said Louis as he rose to go on his morning calls, "looking out for rain eh, don't be alarmed baby is not sugar nor salt."