Lettice fled to the top of the first flight, and there stood still, holding the balusters. Resolution failed for the moment to carry her further. The blow had been severe enough to half-stun her, though not to overcome her courage, and tears streamed from her eyes with the pain—an involuntary overflow: muscular, not mental. Lettice would have scorned to cry for such a cause: but she was stupefied, and five minutes passed unmeasured. Then the parlour door opened for a shout: "Lettice! What are you after? You little slowcoach! Sissie wants her shawl." Lettice rushed to Cecilia's bedroom door, and called out, "Yes, yes, I'm coming." "Make haste! What an age you have been!" Lettice caught up the shawl and ran downstairs. When she entered, the other two were again in earnest conference, and they scarcely noticed her. Cecilia only remarked carelessly, "I do wish you would learn to be a little more attentive, Lettice;" and went on with what she was saying. Lettice attempted no defence. She sat down, not in her former place, but well in the shade behind the couch, and made believe to be at work again. A tap at the door was followed by the announcement,— "Please, ma'am, Mr. Kelly wants to see you!" "Mr. Kelly! O dear!" "He've been a lot of times, ma'am, when you was too ill: and he said maybe you'd be able now." "Well, I suppose he must come in for once. It is to be hoped that he will not stay long." Felix crossed over to where Lettice sat. "I'm off," he whispered. "I'll be back in an hour. I say—you didn't really hurt yourself? I saw you got an uncommonly hard bang." "Oh, it's nothing—" and she smiled. "Not bad now." "It's getting better." "Sis didn't notice, so I said nothing. She'd only lie and bother. You'll be all the colours of the rainbow in a day or two." Felix dashed across the room, intent on escape; and Cecilia's eyes followed him with hungry looks. She could hardly bear to have him out of sight, now that the parting was so near. Parting! For how long? Suppose the separation were to be final? Suppose she should never meet the boy again in this world? If not in this world—but beyond, all was blank. Such questions haunted her continually: and they came now with a sudden vehemence which, for the moment, caused forgetfulness of all beside. She forgot to look up and welcome the clergyman, advancing dubiously, after a collision with Felix in the doorway. She entirely forgot the presence of a silent girl in the shade behind her couch. All Cecilia's force was for the moment needed to grapple with the inrush of sad thoughts—the desolate realisation that she had soon to leave the one whom most in all the world she loved; and that the leaving might be final. CHAPTER II. LETTICE'S DREAD.