It so fell that just then Leopold was asleep in his chair,--every morning he slept a little soon after being carried out,--and that chair was in its usual place in the meadow, with the clump of trees between it and the stile. Wingfold was seated in the shade of the trees, but Helen, happening to want something for her work, went to him and committed her brother to his care until she should return, whereupon he took her place. Almost the same moment however, he spied Polwarth coming from the little door in the fence, and went to meet him. When he turned, he saw, to his surprise, a lady standing beside the sleeping youth, and gazing at him with a strange intentness. Polwarth had seen her come from the clump of trees, and supposed her a friend. The curate walked hastily back, fearing he might wake and be startled at sight of the stranger. So intent was the gazing lady that he was within a few yards of her before she heard him. She started, gave one glance at the curate, and hurried away towards the town. There was an agitation in her movements which Wingfold did not like; a suspicion crossed his mind, and he resolved to follow her. In his turn he made over his charge to Polwarth, and set off after the lady. The moment the eyes of Emmeline’s mother fell upon the countenance of Leopold, whom, notwithstanding the change that suffering had caused, she recognized at once, partly by the peculiarity of his complexion, the suspicion, almost conviction, awoke in her that here was the murderer of her daughter. That he looked so ill seemed only to confirm the likelihood. Her first idea was to wake him and see the effect of her sudden presence. Finding he was attended, however, she hurried away to inquire in the town and discover all she could about him. A few moments after Polwarth had taken charge of him, and while he stood looking on him tenderly, the youth woke with a start. “Where is Helen?” he said. “I have not seen her. Ah, here she comes!” “Did you find me alone then?” “Mr. Wingfold was with you. He gave you up to me, because he had to go into the town.” He looked inquiringly at his sister as she came up, and she looked in the same way at Polwarth. “I feel as if I had been lying all alone in this wide field,” said Leopold, “and as if Emmeline had been by me, though I didn’t see her.” Polwarth looked after the two retiring forms, which were now almost at the end of the meadow, and about to issue on the high road. Helen followed his look with hers. A sense of danger seized her. She trembled, and kept behind Leopold’s chair. “Have you been coughing much to-day?” asked the gate-keeper. “Yes, a good deal--before I came out. But it does not seem to do much good.” “What good would you have it do?” “I mean, it doesn’t do much to get it over. Oh, Mr. Polwarth, I am so tired!”