And Hugh, speaking thickly, like a drunken man, said, "Yes, certainly! and why not?" and he would ask Margaret to go with him to Shepherd's Corner to-morrow, and see Tim Hartlebury, who was lying dying or dead, he did not know which; but apropos to the Sudbury politics, and the old Tory member, Lord Lyndhurst of Lyndhurst, at whom the Radical party, with the publican of the Green Drake at their head, had shied rotten eggs, would Lady Redmond assure him that the Grange was not infested with serpents. The old hydra-headed reptile had lived there in his father's time, and there was a young brood left, he heard, that were nourished on Margaret's roses. No, he repeated, if there were serpents at the Grange they would not drive there, for he was afraid of Raby, and he hated parsons, for even blind ones could see sometimes, and they might tell tales--lies--he said, beating wildly on the bedclothes; lies, every one of them, and would they please take away his Wee Wifie, for he was tired of her. And Fay, trembling very much, called out to Saville to come quickly, for Sir Hugh was talking so funnily, she could not make out what he meant. And Saville, as he stood and held his master's hands, thought his talk so very fanny that he summoned Mrs. Heron and Ellerton at once, while the groom saddled one of the horses and galloped off for Dr. Martin; and when Dr. Martin arrived, and had seen his patient, the mystery was soon cleared. Sir Hugh had brain fever; and that night Ellerton and Saville had to hold him down in his bed to prevent him throwing himself from the window. He very nearly did it once in the cunning of his madness, when they left him unguarded for a moment; and after that they had to strap him down. They had taken his Wee Wifie from him almost by force; she had clung to him so--her poor mad Hugh, as she called him. But Mrs. Heron took the distracted young creature in her motherly arms when Dr. Martin brought her downstairs, and soothed her as though she were a child. Fay put her head down on the housekeeper's shoulder and cried until she could cry no longer. "Will he die--will my darling die?" was all she could say at first; and then she would ask piteously to go back to him. No one ventured to let her cross the threshold. After this there were two hospital nurses sent down from London, and Dr. Conway, a well-known physician in town, met Dr. Martin in consultation. Saville and Ellerton were always in the sick-room when wanted. Everything that money could procure, or faithful attendance could give, was lavished on the patient, but for a long time there was no improvement. If his violence had not banished Fay from the room his miserable ravings would. The nurses were too much accustomed to such scenes to take much notice of their patient's wild talk; but the trusty old servants, who knew their master's secret, shuddered as they heard him, for his talk was always of Margaret. He never even mentioned his Wee Wifie.