Mrs. Magsby pronounced the apartments roomy and commodious, but somewhat wanting in cheerfulness. ‘But me and Magsby have took care of all manner of houses,’ she added with resignation, ‘and we can make ourselves comfortable amost anywheres, purvided we’ve a bit o’ firing to bile the kettle for our cup o’ tea and a mouthful of victuals.’ Lucius showed Mr. Magsby the premises—the door opening upon the hidden staircase, all the ins and outs of the place—and told him what was expected of him. After this induction of the Magsbys, he went up-stairs and saw Lucille. She was awake, but her mind still wandered. She looked at him with a far-off unrecognising gaze that went to his heart, and murmured some broken sentence, in which the name of ‘father’ was the only word he could distinctly hear. ‘Pray to our Father in heaven, dearest,’ said Lucius, tenderly supporting the weary head, which moved so restlessly upon the pillow. ‘He is the only Father who never wrongs His children; in whose love and wisdom we can believe, come weal, come woe.’ He stayed by the bedside a little while, gave his instructions to Mrs. Milderson, and then went to the other sick room. Here he found Mr. Sivewright, fretful and impatient, but decidedly improved since the suspension of the medicine; a fact which that gentleman dwelt upon in a somewhat cynical spirit. ‘You may remember that at the beginning of our acquaintance I professed myself a sceptic with regard to medical science,’ he said with his harsh laugh, ‘and I cannot say that my experience even of your skill has been calculated to conquer my prejudices. You are a very good fellow, Lucius, but the only effect of your medicines for the last month or so has been to make me feel nearer death than ever I felt before. I seem to be twice the man I was since I left off that confounded tonic of yours.’ ‘I am very glad to hear it—not glad that the tonic has failed, but that you are better. Try to believe in me a little, however, in spite of this.’ ‘Have you sent away those thieves?’ ‘Mr. and Mrs. Wincher? Yes, they are gone.’ ‘So ends five-and-twenty years’ service! And I thought them faithful!’ said Mr. Sivewright with a sigh. ‘And by what models of honesty have you replaced these traitors?’ Lucius explained his arrangements, to which Mr. Sivewright gave but doubtful approval. He inquired anxiously about Lucille, and seemed grieved to find that she was too ill to come to him as usual. ‘Though for these many years past I have doubted the existence of any relationship between us, she has made herself dear to me somehow, in spite of myself. God knows I have tried to shut my heart against her. When my son abandoned me, I swore never to care for any living creature—never again to subject myself to the anguish that an ingrate can inflict.’ END OF VOL. II. LONDON: ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W. Transcriber’s Notes pg 8 Changed: You loved this mam! to: You loved this man!