torpor to pass away and leave Magdalen herself again. In his estimation she was already his, for surely she could not refuse him now when everybody looked upon the marriage as a settled thing, and he insisted that everything should be done for her comfort, and every care given to her which would be given to Mrs. Franklin Irving. And in this his mother dared not cross him. His will was stronger on that point than her own, and hence the perfect order in the sick-room, and the evidences of kind, thoughtful attention which Magdalen had been so quick to detect. In one thing, however, Mrs. Walter Scott had had her way. She had dismissed Celine outright, and put in her place a maid of her own choosing, and it was her step which Magdalen heard, coming towards her room. She was not a bad-faced girl, and she smiled pleasantly as she spoke to Magdalen and said, “You are better this morning, Miss Lennox.” “Yes, a great deal better. Have I been sick long, and where are they all? Who are you, and where is Celine?” Magdalen asked, and the girl replied, “She left here some two weeks ago and I came in her place; I am Sarah King; can I do anything for you?” “Nothing but answer my questions. How long have I been sick, and where are Hester Floyd and Mr. Irving?” She meant Roger, but the girl was thinking of Frank, and replied, “Mr. Irving went to Springfield yesterday, but will be home to-night, I guess, and so glad to find you better; he has been so concerned about you, and is in here two or three times a day.” “Is he?” and Magdalen’s face flushed at this proof of Roger’s interest in her. “Don’t you remember anything about it?” the girl asked, and Magdalen replied, “Nothing; it is all like a long, disturbed sleep. Where is Hester, did you say?” “You mean Mrs. Floyd, I suppose; she has been gone some time,—to Schodick, or some such place. She went with _old_ Mr. Irving, Mr. Franklin’s uncle, I believe. He is West somewhere now, I heard madam say. I have never seen him, nor Mrs. Floyd.” She meant Roger by _old Mr. Irving_, and ordinarily Magdalen would have laughed merrily at the mistake, but now she was too much surprised and pained to give it more than a thought. “Roger, Mr. Roger Irving gone, and Hester, too?” she cried. “When did they go, and why did they leave me here so sick? Has everybody gone? Tell me, please, all you know about it.” Sarah knew very little, but that little she told, and then Magdalen knew that of all the once happy household at Millbank she was left alone. Hester was gone, the old servants gone, and Roger was gone, too. That was the hardest part of all, and the tears sprang to her eyes as a feeling of homesickness came stealing over her. “I’d better call Mrs. Irving,” Sarah said, puzzled to know why Magdalen should cry, and she left the room to do so.