Not a word was exchanged between the two men about Harriet Brandt. Ralph, remembering the hint the doctor had thrown out respecting her being the ultimate cause of the baby’s illness, did not like to bring up her name again--felt rather guilty with respect to it, indeed--and Doctor Phillips was only too glad to see the young man bestirring himself to be useful, and losing sight of his own worry in the trouble of his sister-in-law. Of course he could not have refused, or even demurred, at accompanying his party to England on so mournful an errand--and to do him justice, he did not wish it to be otherwise. Brussels, and its anticipated pleasures, had been driven clean out of his head by the little tragedy that had occurred in Heyst, and his attitude towards Margaret when they met again, was so quietly affectionate and brotherly that he was of infinite comfort to her. She quite acquiesced in Doctor Phillips’ decision that her child should be buried with her father’s family, and the mournful group with the little coffin in their midst, set out without delay for Devonshire. CHAPTER IX. Harriet Brandt set off for Brussels in the best of spirits. Captain Pullen had pledged himself to follow her in a couple of days, and had sketched with a free hand the pleasure they would mutually enjoy in each other’s company, without the fear of Mrs. Pullen, or Miss Leyton, popping on them round the corner. Madame Gobelli also much flattered her vanity by speaking of Ralph as if he were her confessed lover, and prospective _fiancé_, so that, what with the new scenes she was passing through, and her anticipated good fortune, Harriet was half delirious with delight, and looked as “handsome as paint” in consequence.