isolated, conscious of their conspiracy against her. Mrs. Dalyell’s spirit was roused a little by this persecution. She had been doubtful enough of the expediency of what she was about to do from the first, but she became more and more determined to hold to her resolution as they thus united against her: and--what she never thought could have been the case--began to long for the day when she should be delivered from this domestic tyranny and once more breathe freely in an atmosphere where she would not be constrained. Thus it may be supposed there was little comfort one way or another in the troubled house; and it became the order of the day to make the evening as short as possible, to go to bed early, to finish upon any terms, at the earliest moment, the dreary, unattractive evening hours. Fred was following the little line of ladies with their candles up the stairs, when he was once more stopped, but this time openly, by old Janet. She came to the edge of the great staircase in her nodding mutch and checked shawl. “Will you give me two or three minutes, Mr. Fred,” she said. “For what do you want two or three minutes? I have no time at present,” he said quickly, for Susie, who was nearest to him in the procession, had stopped upon the stairs, holding up her candle and looking back upon him. She was like a picture, with her light held up and falling upon her white dress. “But you must come,” said Janet in a shrill whisper. “You must come. Remember what your father said--and this time it’s a matter of life and death.” “How do you know what my father said?” “Ay, that’s a question. Come with me, my bonnie man--oh, come with me and you shall know all.” Susie stood like a little light-bearer holding up the candle. “Who are you talking to there, Fred, in the dark?” “No one,” he said, with the prompt unconscious impulse of a child accused. “No one! Why, it’s Janet. Oh, is that all?” said Susie. She lowered her light at once and turned away with the profoundest indifference. The sight of Janet conveyed no sense of excitement or mystery to the girl who saw her every day.