She could not, of course, grasp the enormity of this thing, but that it meant serious trouble was evident. She had never seen her father disturbed like this before, and those last words of his, repeated so despairingly, had been enough to fill her with vague alarm. It surely _could_ not mean the giving up of their beautiful home? Why, the Abbey House had been in their family for generations, and every stone of it was precious to her. And she knew only too well how her father loved it. The Woodfords of the Abbey House were well known in the county, and the thought that strangers might one day occupy it had never hitherto suggested itself to anyone's mind. Margaret started slightly as the idea for the first time presented itself to her now. She gazed with tear-dimmed eyes at the beautiful grassy terraces, and the grand old cedar-tree rearing its head in front of the dining-room windows and sweeping the lawn with its graceful branches. It all looked so peaceful outside in the morning sunlight, as though nothing could disturb the calm serenity of the place. Alas! for appearances--how poor an index they often are to the stern realities of life! Mr. Woodford scarcely saw his daughter any more that day; he remained in the library until quite late in the afternoon, refusing admittance to everyone, spending his time in writing letters, and sorting papers in his desk with nervous fingers. At last Margaret could bear the suspense no longer, and persisted in knocking at the door until he responded to her entreaties to come in. "There is something very wrong with the master to-day," said old John, the man-servant, as he addressed his fellow-servants. "Something _very_ wrong," and he shook his head dolorously as he spoke. "Yes--that there is, and no mistake," answered cook, "and as for Miss Margaret, she looks as white as a sheet; just because the master wouldn't come in to lunch she must needs go without." "I wonder what it means. It's something as come by post upset them, because things seemed all right when the master came down this morning; he looked as cheerful as could be, and when I set eyes on him half an hour later, I never saw anyone look worse." "Well--I'll tell you what _I_ think it is----" But cook's explanations, or ideas, were cut short by the violent ringing of the library bell, not once, but two or three times, peremptorily. "My! listen to that now, be quick, John! Good gracious, I never heard a bell tugged in that way before!" John forgot he was getting on in years as he hurried breathless up the stairs; he felt already a presentiment of trouble, but he was not prepared for what he found. "Why--what--what's the matter, miss?" he exclaimed, as he opened the library door and hurried to his master's side. "I don't know!---oh, I don't know! but father is very ill--send for the doctor, John, quick--let George take the grey mare!"