'No one, dear.' 'Not poor William Wylder?' 'No, dear. I don't suppose he cares more for a clergyman than for any other man; none of his family ever did, when they came to lie on a bed of sickness, or of death either.' 'No, no,' said Rachel, wildly; 'I did not mean to pray. I was not thinking of that; but William Wylder was different; and he did not mention _me_ either?' Dorcas shook her head. 'I knew it,' continued Rachel, with a kind of shudder. 'And tell me, Dorcas, does he know that he is in danger--such imminent danger?' 'That I cannot say, Rachel, dear. I don't believe doctors like to tell their patients so.' There was a silence of some minutes, and Rachel, clasping her hands in an agony, said-- 'Oh, yes--he's gone--he's certainly gone; and I remain alone under that dreadful burden.' 'Please, Miss Brandon, the doctor's down stairs with Captain Lake,' said the maid, opening the door. 'Is Lord Chelford with him?' 'Yes, Miss, please.' 'Then tell him I will be so obliged if he will come here for a moment, when the doctor is gone; and ask the doctor now, from me, how he thinks Captain Lake.' In a little while the maid returned. Captain Lake was not so low, and rather better than this morning, the doctor said; and Rachel raised her eyes, and whispered an agitated thanksgiving. 'Was Lord Chelford coming?' 'His lordship had left the room when she returned, and Mr. Larcom said he was with Lawyer Larkin in the library.' 'Mr. Larkin can wait. Tell Lord Chelford I wish very much to see him here.' So away went the maid again. A message in that great house was a journey; and there was a little space before they heard a knock at the door of Dorcas's pretty room, and Lord Chelford, duly invited, came in. Lord Chelford was surprised to see Rachel, and held her hand, while he congratulated her on the more favourable opinion of the physician this afternoon; and then he gave them, as fully and exactly as he could, all the lights emitted by Dr. Buddle, and endeavoured to give his narrative as cheerful and confident an air as he could. Then, at length, he recollected that Mr. Larkin was waiting in the study. 'I quite forgot Mr. Larkin,' said he; 'I left him in the library, and I am so very glad we have had a pleasanter report upon poor Lake this evening; and I am sure we shall all feel more comfortable on seeing Sir Francis Seddley. He _is_ such an admirable surgeon; and I feel sure he'll strike out something for our poor patient. I've known him hit upon such original expedients, and make such wonderful successes.' So with a kind smile he left the room. Then there was a long pause. 'Does he really think that Stanley will recover?' said Rachel. 'I don't know; I suppose he hopes it. I don't know, Rachel, what to think of anyone or anything. What wild beasts they are. How "swift to shed blood," as poor William Wylder said last Sunday. Have you any idea what they quarrelled about?'