She went to fetch her father, and as he came in and leant fondly over his son's sick-bed, and grasped warmly his unwounded hand, tears of afflicting memory coursed each other fast down the old man's cheeks. He had been hard, too hard upon Edward; perhaps his severity had driven him of late into such bad courses, and to the brink of such an awful and disgraceful end; perhaps if he had been kinder, gentler, more sympathising for this first offence, he might have been saved the anguish of driving his poor boy to lower and wilder depths of sin and sorrow. It was all over now; and amid the apparent wreck of all his hopes, even after the death-blows which recent events had dealt to his old pride in his noble child, he yet regarded him as he lay there-- wounded and in such a way--with all the pity of a Christian's forgiveness, with all the fondness of a father's love. "Oh, father, I have suffered unspeakably. If God ever raises me to health and strength again, I vow with all my heart to serve Him as I have never done before." "Yes, Edward, I trust and believe it; think no more of the past; let the dead bury their dead. The golden present is before you, and you will have two friends who never desert the brave man--your Maker and yourself." A silence followed, and then Eva said, "I have just seen Dr Leesby, Eddy, and he says that if you are now quite yourself, and the light-headedness has ceased, you may be moved on Monday." "And to-day is?--I have lost all count of time." "To-day is Saturday. Won't it be charming, dear, to find ourselves once more at home; quietly at home, with no one but ourselves, and our own love to make us happy." "And what am I to do, Eva?" "Hush, Eddy; sufficient for the day--" "Does she know, Eva? Do you ever hear from her now?" "Yes, often--but do not think too much of those things just yet." "And Julian?" "He has often come to ask after you," she said blushing, "but he is afraid to see you, lest it should do you harm just now." "Perhaps he is right. We are not all enemies, then?" "Enemies with Julian and Violet? _Oh no_." Though the engagement of Kennedy with Violet had been broken off by the common desire of Julian and Mr Kennedy, the two families still continued their affectionate intercourse, and bewailed the sad necessity which drove them to a step so painful, yet so unavoidably required by the welfare of all concerned. And from the first they hoped that all might yet be well, while some among them began to fancy that if Kennedy and Violet should ever be united, it would not be the only close bond between hearts already full of mutual affection. So Julian still came daily during Kennedy's illness to see Eva and Mr Kennedy, and to inquire after the sufferer's health. And sometimes he took them for a walk in the grounds or the immediate neighbourhood of Camford, a place which they had never visited before, and which to them was full of interest.