Where is my mother?” was what she heard. Lucy’s impulse was to cry out too, to rush out to the hall and throw herself upon her brother, and it took her no small effort to restrain herself. Her heart gave a wild leap into her throat--and then she turned and hurried back. What was going to happen? “Lucy--Lucy! have you asked what is the matter?” said Lady Curtis, getting up with natural agitation. She thought of Arthur at once, as was to be expected; but she found time even in the tide of rising anxiety to give a kind word to her visitor. “Never mind,” she said, “don’t stir--there is no need for you to disturb yourself--Lucy! where are you? what is it?” said my Lady. And then she gave a half scream, and rushed towards the door, pushing back the screen which had veiled the space before the fire. “Yes, mother, here I am,” said Arthur, coming in. One of the party, at least, had no eyes for him, no thought for him. Lucy did not even look at her brother; and when his eye caught her standing there, and saw this, Arthur, with his arm still encircling his mother, followed instinctively to see what interest could keep his sister from him. Nancy had risen from her seat at the sound of his voice. Every tinge of colour had gone from her cheeks, her eyes looked as if they had been forced wide open by a passion of wonder which was almost agony, her lips had dropped apart. She stood motionless, gazing, but able to see nothing. “My God!” he cried, and put his mother aside. Sir John had followed him into the room. They were all there, all who were most interested, and all felt by instinct that something greater and stranger had happened than Arthur’s coming home. “What is it, what is it?” cried Lady Curtis, in sharp tones of pain. Her son made but one step away from her, and caught their unknown visitor, their strange neighbour, the young woman they had all been so kind to, in his arms. “No, no, no!” they all heard Nancy cry, shrill and high in terror or anguish, they could not tell which; and then she dropped out of his arms in a heap upon the floor. “Have I killed her?” he said, looking round upon them with a scared and blanched face, while Sir John and his mother looked at him, speechless with astonishment. “No, no,” cried Lucy, who had possession of her senses; “it is no worse than fainting. Oh, don’t you see, don’t you see what it is, all of you? She has scarcely been able to keep from telling you.” “What had she to tell me? What do you mean? What is this, what is this, Lucy? I don’t understand.” Arthur had one arm under his wife’s head. “She is better, she is coming back,” he cried, and stretched out his other hand with one glance round. “Mother, God bless you! You have been keeping her here safe while I have been looking everywhere for her,” he said. “If I had not owed you everything before, I should owe you my life now.” “Arthur! What has he to do with her? Her name is--Ah!” Lady Curtis ended with a great cry.