"Certain sure, my dear! Mr. Casserly, Dr. Osborne's assistant, a very pleasant-spoken young man, showed me the telegraph message, and I read it for myself. It gave me such a turn that I thought I should have dropped, and Mr. Casserly offered me some sal volatile or peppermint--I mean of his own accord, and never intended to charge for it, I am sure." "A hundred and thirty guineas! and the one chance of saving his life is to be lost because we cannot command that sum! Good God! to think of our losing him for want of---- Is there no one, mother, from whom we could get it? Think, think! It's of no use sitting crying there! Think, is there no one who could help us in this strait?" The feeling of dignity which Mrs. Ashurst knew she ought to have assumed was scared by her daughter's earnestness, so the old lady merely fell to smoothing her dress, and, after a minute's pause, said in a tremulous voice-- "I fear there is no one, my dear! The rector, I dare say, would do something, but I'm afraid your father has already borrowed money of him, and I know he has of Mr. King, the chairman of the governors of the school. I don't know whether Mr. Casserly----" "Mr. Casserly, mother, a parish doctor's drudge! Is it likely that he would be able to assist us?" "Well, I don't know, my dear, about being able, I'm sure he would be willing! He was so kind about that sal volatile that I am sure he would do what---- Lord! we never thought of Mr. Creswell!" Set and hard as Marian's face had been throughout the dialogue, it grew even more rigid as she heard these words. Her lips tightened, and her brow clouded as she said, "Do you think that I should have overlooked that chance, mother? Do you not know that Mr. Creswell is away in France? He is the very first person to whom I should have thought of applying." Under any other circumstances, Mrs. Ashurst would have been excessively delighted at this announcement. As it was, she merely said, "The young ladies are at Woolgreaves, I think." "The young ladies!" repeated Marian, bitterly--"the young ladies! The young dolls--dolts--dummies to try dresses on! What are Maude and Gertrude Creswell to us, mother? What kindness, courtesy even, have they ever shown us? To get at their uncle's purse is what we most need----" "Oh, Marian, Marian!" interrupted Mrs. Ashurst, "what are you saying?" "Saying?" replied Marian calmly--"Saying? The truth! What should I say when I know that if we had the command of Mr. Creswell's purse, father's life might--from what I gather from Dr. Osborne, most probably would--be saved! Are these circumstances under which one should be meek and mild and thankful for one's lot in life! Is this a time to talk of gratitude and---- He's moving! Yes, darling father, Marian is here!"