"Amy! wife!" he said, sternly, "there must never be a question of love between us, now. That--that is at an end, and must never be named again. I forgive you, but forget I never can," and then he left her, before she could say one word. Left her to her young heart's anguish and bitter despair, tenfold greater than the anguish he had depicted being hers long ago, because hopeless--hopeless of ever now winning back his love again. And what a love it had been! She began to see, to feel it all now, now that it had gone, left her for ever. "God help me!" she cried, "I never, never thought it would have come to this. God help me! I have no other help now, and forgive me if I have broken his heart." Then by-and-by she rose, and with wan, stricken face, went back to her boy. Mr. Blane was bending over Bertie, who was crying in feeble, childish accents, "Give me some water to drink. Please give me some water." "Presently, my little man; all in good time." "But I want it now--I must have it now." "My mistress, Mrs. Vavasour, sir," said Hannah, as Amy entered, and stood silently by his side, and looked anxiously into his face, as she returned his greeting. "Dr. Bernard usually attends at the Hall," she said; "but he lives so far away, and I was so anxious about my boy. Is there much the matter with him?" "Ahem," said Mr. Blane, clearing his throat, as most medical men do when disliking to tell an unpleasant truth, or considering how best to shape an answer least terrifying to the mother's heart. "No--no," he said hesitatingly. "The child is very hot and feverish." "I hope he isn't going to sicken for a fever, sir," said Hannah. "I fear he has sickened for it," he replied. "Not the scarlet fever?" said Amy, in a frightened voice. "No. There has been a nasty kind of fever going about, which I fear your boy has somehow taken. I have had two cases lately, and in both instances the symptoms were similar to this." "Is it a dangerous fever?" asked Amy. "The old lady, my first patient, is quite well again, in fact better than she has been for the last six months, as the fever cured the rheumatics, and from being almost a cripple, she now walks nearly as well as ever. And," he said, rising to leave, "I should advise no one's entering this room but those who are obliged to--the fewer the better--and by all means keep the other children away, as the sore throat is decidedly infectious. Good-bye, Sir; take your medicine like a little man, and then we'll soon have you well again," said he to Bertie. "My boy, my poor Bertie," said Amy, as she sat by his side, and held the cool, refreshing drink to his parched lips. Did she need this fresh trial coming upon her already stricken heart? "Don't let the boy see you crying, Ma'am," said Hannah, "or perhaps he'll be getting frightened, and I'm sure that'll be bad for him."