“I'll go up and see her;” and with this he arose and passed up the little stair that led to the nursery. In one bed a little dark-haired girl of about three years old lay fast asleep; in the adjoining bed a bright blue-eyed child of two years or less lay wide awake, her cheeks crimson, and the expression of her features anxious and excited. Her mother was bathing her temples with cold water as Sewell entered, and was talking in a voice of kind and gentle meaning to the child. “That stupid woman of yours said it was Blanche,” said Sewell, pettishly, as he gazed at the little girl. “I told her it was Cary; she has been heavy all day, and eaten nothing. No, pet,--no, darling,” said she, stooping over the sick child, “pa is not angry; he is only sorry that little Cary is ill.” “I suppose you'd better have Tobin to see her,” said he, coldly. “I 'll tell George to take the tax-cart and fetch him out. It's well it was n't Blanche,” muttered he, as he sauntered out of the room. His wife's eyes followed him as he went, and never did a human face exhibit a stronger show of repressed passion than hers, as, with closely compressed lips and staring eyes, she watched him as he passed out. “The fool frightened me,--she said it was Blanche,” were the words he continued to mutter as he went down the stairs. Tobin arrived in due time, and pronounced the case not serious,--a mere feverish attack that only required a day or two of care and treatment. “Have you seen Colonel Sewell?” said Mrs. Sewell, as she accompanied the doctor downstairs. “Yes; I told him just what I 've said to you.” “And what reply did he make?” “He said, 'All right! I have business in town, and must start to-morrow. My wife and the chicks can follow by the end of the week.'” “It's so like him!--so like him!” said she, as though the pent-up passion could no longer be restrained. CHAPTER XL. MR. BALFOUR'S OFFICE On arriving in Dublin, Sewell repaired at once to Balfour's office in the Castle yard; he wanted to “hear the news,” and it was here that every one went who wanted to “hear the news.” There are in all cities, but more especially in cities of the second order, certain haunts where the men about town repair; where, like the changing-houses of bankers, people exchange their “credits,”--take up their own notes, and give up those of their neighbors. Sewell arrived before the usual time when people dropped in, and found Balfour alone and at breakfast. The Under-Secretary's manner was dry, so much Sewell saw as he entered; he met him as though he had seen him the day before, and this, when men have not seen each other for some time, has a certain significance. Nor did he ask when he had come up, nor in any way recognize that his appearance was matter of surprise or pleasure. “Well, what's going on here?” said Sewell, as he flung himself into an easy-chair, and turned towards the fire. “Anything new?”