“Whom I know nothing at all about,” she said with some vehemence. “The one I suppose that comes in to play with Duke. Frogmore, I hope you have not given Duke’s place in your heart to any stranger. Oh, I say nothing against the boy!” “To a stranger!” cried the old man, with a piercing tone of pain. “Oh, my dear Frogmore, oh, my dear! I would not for the world cross you, and if it is a little favorite--of course I shall take care of him, and love him--try to love him--for your sake: but you must not care for him too much on the other hand,” she said, playfully, though with an effort, lifting up her finger--“to interfere with me--or Duke.” The old gentleman looked at her with eyes full of pain--“Oh, my poor Mary,” he said, “can you not remember--try and remember--what happened before you went away.” “I remember very well, my dear,” she said, “only it is strange that you should talk of my going away as if it had been something of the greatest importance. To hear you speak one would think I had deserted you--run away from you--left you alone for years.” “Dr. Marsden,” said Lord Frogmore. He repeated the call impatiently in another minute, “Dr. Marsden!” “Do you want to speak to Dr. Marsden? I am sure he will be here directly. Oh, here he is,” said Mary, looking round with a little surprise. “He must have been quite close by.” “Dr. Marsden,” cried Frogmore, with a gasp for breath, “is this how it is always to be?” “Oh, I hope not,” said Dr. Marsden. “Things will arise naturally to awaken old recollections; but we must not force anything--we must not force anything. In that case we should only lose what we have gained.” “But I have no time to wait,” cried the old lord--“I--have no time to wait----” As he spoke he was seized with one of the dreadful fits of coughing which shook his old frame. There is nothing more dreadful than to look on at one of those accés which threaten to shake the very life out of a worn and exhausted body, and to feel how utterly helpless we are, how incapable of doing anything to relieve or succor. Mary, though she was so placid and confident, so sure that all would be well, was greatly troubled by this attack. She had always been thought a good nurse, but for a good nurse in the uninstructed sense, there is nothing so difficult, nothing so dreadful as to do nothing. She hurried to put her arm under the pillows to raise up the sufferer, to support him in her arms, and was altogether cast down when her trusted doctor put his hand upon her shoulder and drew her away. “But something must be done--his head must be raised--he must be supported----” “My dear lady, he must be left alone--you only disturb him,” the doctor said.