“She’s an angel, sir!” cried Wilton, vehemently. “I repeat it--an angel. There, now, is a young, inestimable creature, who would--but we won’t recur to that now; another time. Well, well, Flo’, where is little nurse?” he cried, as Flora entered the library. There was a grave expression on her face, and she held in her hand a letter. Lotte had quitted Harleydale early that morning. Certainly, of the three, none appeared more completely thunderstruck at the circumstance than Mr. Wilton. “Gone!” he cried; “left us without a word?” He looked fiercely at both son and daughter. “What is the meaning of so extraordinary an occurrence?” he continued. “She must have been, in some way, insulted--outraged--to have departed in so abrupt a manner. Whoever has dared to be guilty of aught which can have compelled her to act thus shall be visited by my most wrathful indignation.” The old man spoke with great excitement. Flora, half-frightened at his manner, said, hurriedly-- “Here is a letter, father which she has left upon her toilet-table, addressed to me.” “Read it,” cried Wilton, imperatively. Flora opened the note, and, with genuine emotion, read the contents. They ran thus-- “_My dear Miss Wilton,---Do not think harshly of me for quitting you and your beautiful home thus abruptly, but, indeed, I could not summon fortitude enough to part with you for ever._” [“For ever,” ejaculated Mark and his father in a breath. “_With quivering lip_. Flora repeated the word, and went on reading.] “_My mission is fulfilled. I was placed by your father’s bedside in the darkest hour of his danger, with no skill, but only a hopeful heart and willing spirit to help and guide me. It has pleased Heaven to place him on the threshold of health, and my services, with you by his side, are no longer needed, so I retire again into my own humble privacy_----” “But I won’t allow her to do anything of the kind,” roared old Wilton, excitedly. “Hush, sir, for mercy sake, hush!” cried Mark; and, in an agitated manner, said to Flora, “Pray, go on.” Flora brushed her tears away, and proceeded reading-- “_I have imagined and feel rewarded by the thanks your generous heart and kind nature would prompt you to render me for what I have endeavoured to accomplish in my office of nurse. I have imagined those of the other members of your family, and so am amply repaid. You and they owe me nothing on that account; yet, if I might claim a favour quite to repay all obligation, it would be to ask of you all to forget me--or if you may not be able to remove all traces of her whose social grade renders her of little worth in the eyes of those in your position, from lingering in your memory, at least act as if I were no more remembered. Do not seek me, do not write to me more_--” Wilton uttered an ejaculation of wonder. Flora, with an unsteady voice, proceeded--