Dr Luttrell looked serious, and told himself that he was in doubt. "The bad news will kill her," he said to himself, as he went outside to walk up and down Miss Heathery's garden, which was fifteen feet long and twelve feet wide, "but very secluded," as its owner often said. There, with bare head and wrinkled brow, the doctor walked up and down, stopping, from habit, now and then to pinch off a dead leaf, or give a twist to one of the scarlet runners that had slipped from its string. The night at last; and the doctor was sitting by the bedside, having sent Mrs Luttrell down, and then Thisbe, both utterly worn out and unhinged. Millicent was, as Thisbe had said, dozing; but the fever was high, and Dr Luttrell shook his grey head. "Who'd have thought, my poor flower," he said, "that your young life would be blighted like this!" He could hardly bear his suffering, and, rising from his chair, he stole softly into the back room, where Julia was sleeping calmly, the terrible trouble affecting her young heart only for the minute, and then passing away. The old man bent down and kissed the sleeping face, and, as her custom was, Julia's little arms went softly up and clasped the neck of him who pressed her soft cheek, and fell away again, heavy with sleep. "He will come and tell me the truth." The words fell clearly on the doctor's ear as he was re-entering the sick-room, but Millicent lay apparently sound asleep in the little white dimity-hung bed of Miss Heathery's best room, while the soft murmur of voices came from below. Millicent's words were those of truth, for the moment the trial was over Christie Bayle had rushed out, and sprung into the post-chaise he had had in waiting, and for which changes of horses were harnessed at the three towns they would have to pass through to reach King's Castor, over thirty miles away, and as fast as horses urged by man could go over the rough cross-road, that post-chaise was being hurried along. The night was settling down dark as the first pair of steaming horses were taken out, and a couple of country candles were lit in the battered lamps. Then on and on, uphill slowly, down the far slope at a good gallop, with the chaise dancing and swaying about on its C-springs, and time after time the whole affair nearly being thrown over upon its side. "It's too dark to go so fast, sir," remonstrated the wheeler postboy, as Bayle leaned his head out of the window to urge him on. "Ten shillings a-piece, man. It's for life or death," cried Bayle; and the whips cracked, and the horses plunged into their collars, as the hedges on either side seemed to fly by like a couple of blurred lines. "I must get up now, father," said Millicent suddenly. "My child, no, it is impossible. You remember this morning?" "My dressing-gown," she said in a low, decided voice. "Thisbe will carry me down." "No, no," said Dr Luttrell decidedly. "You must obey me, child."