"The same as the night that poor old woman was slain. Quick! Come on!" "Stop!" said Mellersh. "Here's another!" Volume Two, Chapter XV. MRS BURNETT'S SEIZURE. "I think we had better go too," said Mrs Barclay at last. "But are you quite sure we can do no good?" "No: indeed no, Mrs Barclay; and I am so much obliged to you for staying," replied Claire. "It was the least I could do, my dear, after making all that miserable rumpus about a few paltry guineas. Your papa will never forgive me." "Indeed, there is nothing to forgive, my dear Mrs Barclay. It was natural that you should be indignant," said Denville politely. "Thank you very much for saying so, but it's always the way if I go out, and I shouldn't be at all surprised if there's something else wrong," cried Mrs Barclay piteously. "I'm a most unfortunate creature." "There, put on your things and let's go," said Barclay huffily. "Give me that case. I'll carry it now, or you'll lose that." Mrs Barclay began to thrust her hand into her pocket, and Denville was talking to his son-in-law at the other end of the room, while Claire bent over and kissed her sister. "Are you better now, dear?" "No-o! Oh, my head!--my head!" "My darling!" cried Burnett, coming back and bringing with him a strong smell of cigars and bad wine. "Don't, Frank. Don't you see how ill I am?" "Yes, yes, my own, but the carriage is waiting. Let me help you down, and let's go home." "Oh! My gracious! Oh!" shrieked Mrs Barclay. "Oh!--oh!--oh!--oh!" sobbed May Burnett, again in a worse fit than before. "Now you've done it again," cried Barclay angrily. "There never was such a woman. Here, come along home." "The case--the bracelet, Jo-si-ah!" "Well. What about it?" "I knew something would happen. I felt it coming." "Stop! Where's that diamond bracelet, woman?" "It's gone, Jo-si-ah. I've lost it. It's gone." "A two hundred pound bracelet, and gone!" roared Barclay. "Eh, what? Thank ye, Denville. How did you come by it?" Denville, who was standing in a graceful attitude, smilingly offering the case, explained that Mrs Barclay had let it fall beneath the seat when she thought that she was placing it in her pocket. "Oh, Mr Denville," cried Mrs Barclay, "you _are_ a dear good man!" "Denville! Thank ye!" said Barclay, shaking hands. "You might have stuck to that, and I should have been no wiser. I shan't forget this. Good-night, old man, good-night." "Coarse, but very kindly," said Denville, after Mrs Barclay had made Claire's face wet with tears and kisses, and he had seen the pair to the door. "Yes," said Burnett; "they're a rough couple. Come, May, no nonsense. Get up. I'm not going to have my horses kept waiting all night." May made an effort to rise, but sank back, sobbing hysterically: "My head!--my head!" "Here, give her some brandy, Claire," cried Burnett. "No, no, no. It makes it worse." "Well, it will be better to-morrow. Come along."