“Oh, George, let us do a good-natured thing; let us go over and see Nelly; she'll have so many troubles on her heart, she 'll want a word of advice and kindness. Let us walk over there now.” “It's past ten o'clock, Julia.” “Yes; but they 're always late at Castello.” “And raining heavily besides;--listen to that!” “What do we care for rain? did bad weather ever keep either of us at home when we wished to be abroad?” “We can go to-morrow. I shall have to go to-morrow about this letter.” “But if we wait we shall lose a post. Come, George, get your coat and hat, and I 'll be ready in an instant.” “After all, it will seem so strange in us presenting ourselves at such an hour, and in such a trim. I don't know how we shall do it.” “Easily enough. I 'll go to Mrs. Eady the housekeeper's room, and you 'll say nothing about me, except to Nelly; and as for yourself, it will be only a very natural anxiety on your part to learn how the Colonel is doing. There, now, don't delay. Let us be off at once.” “I declare I think it a very mad excursion, and the only thing certain to come of it will be a heavy cold or a fever.” “And we face the same risks every day for nothing. I'm sure wet weather never kept you from joining the hounds.” This home-thrust about the very point on which he was then smarting decided the matter, and he arose and left the room without a word. “Yes,” muttered he, as he mounted the stairs, “there it is! That's the reproach I can never make head against. The moment they say, 'You were out hunting,' I stand convicted at once.” There was little opportunity for talk as they breasted the beating rain on their way to Castello; great sheets of water came down with a sweeping wind, which at times compelled them to halt and seek shelter ere they could recover breath to go on. “What a night,” muttered be. “I don't think I was ever out in a worse.” “Is n't it rare fun, George?” said she, laughingly. “It's as good as swimming in a rough sea.” “Which I always hated.” “And which I delighted in! Whatever taxes one's strength to its limits, and exacts all one's courage besides, is the most glorious of excitements. There's a splash; that was hail, George.” He muttered something that was lost in the noise of the storm; and though from time to time she tried to provoke him to speak, now by some lively taunt, now by some jesting remark on his sullen humor, he maintained his silence till he reached the terrace, when he said,-- “Here we are, and I declare, Julia, I 'd rather go back than go forward.” “You sha' n't have the choice,” said she, laughing, as she rang the bell. “How is your master, William?” asked she, as the servant admitted them. “No better, miss; the Dublin doctor's upstairs now in consultation, and I believe there's another to be sent for.”