"Oh, father, is Mr. Ingram here?" she whispered. "How sorry he will be to hear I am ill!" And then a sudden thought struck her, and she beckoned to Althea rather excitedly. "Miss Harford," she said, in her poor, hoarse voice, "will you do something for me? In that small right-hand drawer behind you, you will see a little parcel; it is directed. Please give it to Mr. Ingram from me." Althea secretly marvelled at this, but held her peace. When the dainty white parcel was in her hand, she said, gently,-- "Yes, dear Mollie, he shall have it directly he returns. But now your father does not wish me to stay. Good-bye. God bless you, my child." And Althea's tone of faltering tenderness arrested Everard's attention. "It would not be safe. I dare not let you do anything for her," he said, very softly, as he opened the door. "I will stay with her until the nurse comes. But please, go down and rest." And Althea, who was trembling with some strange emotion, obeyed him without a word. CHAPTER XXIX. BARMECIDE'S FEAST, AND A BROWN STUDY. "Control, give, sympathise: these three must be learnt and practised: self-control, charity, and sympathy." _Oriental Saying._ Althea was glad of a few minutes' quiet to recover herself, for she felt agitated and shaken. The sight of that comfortless sick-room, and Everard's worn face and haggard eyes, oppressed and saddened her. A perfect passion of pity for him and his motherless girls swept over her as she closed the door. She had left the room in answer to a wistful, pleading look from him; her presence there evidently troubled him, and he was unwilling for her to run any risk. It was kind, it was friendly of him, she thought. Everard always had a good heart; but at that moment her impulsive, highly wrought nature only yearned to show her sympathy in action. In spite of her sensitive nerves, she was constitutionally brave, and had no fear of any form of illness. "We shall only die when our time comes," was a favourite saying of hers, and neither she nor Doreen shirked anything that met them in their daily path of duty. Mollie was very ill, there was little doubt of that, and she would probably be worse. The sight of the sweet, flushed face, and the remembrance of the poor, thick voice would haunt her, she knew; and there was Waveney----But at this point the sound of a hansom driving up rapidly dispersed her gloomy thoughts, and the next moment Lord Ralston entered the room. "We have got her!" he said, triumphantly,--"Nurse Helena, the best and cleverest nurse in the Institution; and she will be here in ten minutes. I saw the matron, and there is another one coming at eleven to-morrow. I shall go round to Dr. Duncan's house presently, and have a talk with him. We must have Sir Hindley Richmond down, I am determined on that."