“This is a fine time to sit here and divert yoursel’, Miss Marjory,” he said, “when the house is full of strange folk, and no a soul knows what to do first. They’ve come; and mair than that--you’ll know soon enough, soon enough; but Lordsake!” cried the old man, putting Milly aside almost roughly, “send that bairn away.” Marjory rose up, dragging herself painfully back into the busy world which awaits all the living, whosoever may be gone or dead. Then Mr. Charles was seen hurrying through the open window. “What is this, May? What is all this I hear?” he cried. The news had been told to him by the servants, without any preparation, thrown at him in a lump as servants are fond of doing, and he was stunned by the succession of events. It seemed to him impossible to believe in their reality till he had come to her, who was the centre of the family life. Little Milly crying out of sympathy, knowing nothing, clung to her sister’s dress--and Mr. Charles eager and anxious with his long lean person all in tremulous motion, put his hand on the sun-dial to steady himself, and with agitated and white lips asked again, “What is it, May?” And at the other side of the house there suddenly appeared Fanshawe, supporting a lady on his arm. Marjory’s bewildered mind fixed upon this. It was the only thing she did not understand. He placed the stranger on a seat and hurried across the lawn. “Give the lady a glass of wine,” he cried peremptorily to Fleming, and then took Marjory’s hand and drew it within his arm. “Come in-doors,” he said briefly, almost sternly, “they all fly to you, and it is you who ought to be considered most. Come in-doors.” “No,” she said, “no, I must do it first; if they have come I must do that first; he must hear it from me.” “Come in,” said Fanshawe peremptorily; but before he could lead her away, the stranger, whom he had brought to the air, came forward to Marjory. “I am better now,” she said. “I never fainted in my life before. It was such a shock. I know you are Miss Heriot, dear, and I know what you must be feeling. Don’t mind us; I can look after everything, I know how to make myself at home. Oh, poor thing, poor thing! father and brother in one day!” “What does she mean?” said Marjory. “My dear May, my dear May!” cried Mr. Charles. “Lord bless us! she does not know! Come in, come in, as Mr. Fanshawe says.” “Father and brother in one day? then my father is dead,” said Marjory. She put both her hands on Fanshawe’s arm, holding herself up. “Did you tell him? did he hear?” “He had died in his chair, quite calmly, before the news came.” “You are sure--quite sure, he did not know?” “Quite sure.” “Then thank God!” said Marjory. “Oh, I am glad. Don’t say anything to me--I am glad. Milly, Milly, don’t cry, go and say your prayers. I can’t think of Charlie just now, I am so glad for papa.”