"You have no hope to give the old woman?" she said. "Yet to her it seems impossible for any one not to love Bosworth." "I am sure there is no man living for whom Miss Lee has more respect," I answered. She smiled a little sadly. "Respect! That is a cold word to the young heart, Miss Hyde." That moment the door opened and Bosworth's mother came in. She was altogether unlike the stately old lady with whom I was conversing. Her small figure, wavering black eyes, and restless manner, spoke of an entirely different organism, which was natural enough, as she was only connected with the stately dame by marriage with her son, a union that had been consecrated by an early widowhood. It was easy to see that the elder lady was mistress of that house, and that the daughter-in-law held her in profound reverence. Poor lady! she was in great distress, and came up to me at once. "You are kind, very kind," she exclaimed; "he has asked for you so often. Oh! Miss Hyde, it is terrible to see him in this state with no way of helping." "It is indeed," I answered, pitying her from my heart. "Will you go up now? He asked for you and some one else only a few minutes ago," she said, walking up and down the room in nervous distress. "It was an out-of-the-way thing to send for you, almost a stranger, for the Ridge has been empty so long that you all seem like new people, but I am sure you will excuse it. Oh! Miss Hyde, we love him so. We two lonely women, and to lose him!" Here the poor mother burst into a passion of tears; while the old lady sat down by her work-table and looked on with a sorrowful countenance. A noise from up-stairs arrested the younger Mrs. Bosworth in her walk. "He is calling," she said. "Oh! Miss Hyde, he cannot bear me out of his sight! Just as it was years ago, when he would plead with me to sit by his bed, after our mother there insisted on the lamp being put out." The old lady shook her head, and smiled sadly. "You were spoiling the boy, Hester, making a little coward of him; but he soon ceased to be afraid of the dark,--a brave young man, Miss Hyde, and a comfort to his mother; God spare him to us!" Hester Bosworth began to cry afresh at these encomiums; and, going up to her mother-in-law's chair, bent her head upon the back, sobbing aloud. The old lady reached up her soft, little hand, and patted the poor mother on the cheek as if she had been a child. "Don't fret so, Hester. Our boy is young, and his constitution will not give way easily. A little sleep--if we could only induce a few hours' sleep!" "I have made a hop pillow for him, and done everything," sobbed the mother; "but there he lies, looking, looking, looking, now at the wall, now at the ceiling, and muttering to himself." "I know--I know," said the grandmother, hastily lifting her hand, as if the description wounded her. "Will nothing give him a little sleep?"