"Lady Redmond," ejaculated Mr. Ferrers; and Fay wondered at the sudden shadow that passed over her host's fine face. "Oh, yes, bring her in, Mr. Huntingdon, but we must find a softer couch than the oak-settle. Margaret--where are you, Margaret?" and the next moment a clear, pleasant voice answered, "I am here, Raby;" and a tall, graceful-looking woman, with dead-brown hair and calm beautiful face, crossed the long hall. Fay seemed to see her coming through a sort of haze, and she put out her hands involuntarily; Margaret's voice changed as she took them. "Ah, poor child, she is faint. Will you bring her into my morning-room, Mr. Huntingdon, there is an easy couch there, and a nice fire;" and Margaret led the way to a pleasant room with an old-fashioned bay window overlooking the sunny lawn and yew-tree walk; and then took off the little sealskin hat with hands that trembled slightly, and laid the pretty head with its softly ruffled hair on the cushions, and then put some wine to Fay's lips. Fay roused herself and drank some obediently, and a little color came back to her face. "It is my foot, the boot hurts it so," she said, faintly. "Yes, because it is so swelled," returned Miss Ferrers, in a sympathizing voice. "Mr. Huntingdon, if you will ring the bell I will ask my maid for some hot water. I think that will relieve Lady Redmond; and if you will kindly join my brother, you will find him outside. Ruth and I will soon make your cousin more comfortable;" and Erle at once took the hint. The dainty little boot was sadly mangled before they could get it off, and Miss Ferrers uttered a pitying exclamation at the sight of the inflamed and swelled ankle. The hot fomentation was deliciously soothing, and Miss Ferrers's manipulations so soft and skillful that Fay was not sorry that her little protest was made without success. "Don't you think your maid could do this? I do not like to trouble you so much," she said once, in a deprecating voice. "It is no trouble," returned Margaret, fixing her beautiful eyes for a moment on Fay's pale face; "I like to do it for you, Lady Redmond." Yes, she liked to do it; it gave her a strange pleasure to minister to her innocent rival, Hugh's wife. As Fay's little white foot rested in her hand, all at once a scene arouse before her mind--an upper chamber, where a mild majestic Figure rose from among His wondering disciples and "girded Himself with a towel." Ineffable condescension, divine humility, uniting for all ages the law of service and kindly ministration; bidding men to do likewise, and to wash the feet of sinners.