'No; it is he who is hurting me: he is killing me--absolutely killing me!--because I kept from him that his father was alive! Did I not do it for his sake--that he should not be shamed by such a father? Go to him, Mollie; tell him that you know all about it, and that Audrey Ross will have nothing to say to him, because he is the son of a felon. Why are you staring at me? Go! go!' And she pushed her from her so roughly that Mollie would have fallen if Biddy had not caught her.

'Go, Miss Mollie, or you will drive her crazy with your big eyes and frightened face. Whist! don't heed the mistress's wild talk; it is never the truth she is telling you.'

But Mrs. Blake had interrupted the old woman; her eyes were blazing with angry excitement:

'Where do you expect to go, Biddy, if you tell Mollie such lies? You are a wicked old woman! You have helped me to do all this mischief! Would you dare to tell me to my face that I am not the wife of Mat O'Brien?'

'Sorra a bit, Miss Olive; you are the widow of that honest man Blake.

Heaven rest his soul!' returned the old woman doggedly. 'We must be having the doctors to you, Miss Olive avick, if you tell us these wild stories.'

'Biddy, you are a false, foolish old creature! and it is you who are driving me out of my sane senses.'

But at this point Mollie fairly fled.

'Did you see your brother?' asked Michael, as she stopped to dry her eyes. Kester had never uttered a word; he left Mollie to tell her own story, and sat leaning his head on his hands. For once Mollie's loquacity was suffered unchecked.

'It was dark, and I could not see him; it was quite late, you know--nearly twelve o'clock. He came out and listened to me; but the pa.s.sage and the room were quite dark.

'"Go down, Mollie," he said, "and tell my mother that I cannot speak to her to-night. It is quite impossible; she ought not to expect it."

'"But she is ill, Cyril--I am sure she is dreadfully ill; her eyes look so strange, and she is saying such things!"

'"Biddy will take care of her; if she needs a doctor, you must go for one. But nothing on earth would induce me to see her to-night." And then he went back into his room and locked the door.'

'Poor Mollie!'

'Oh, that was nothing to what came afterwards. Would you believe it, Captain Burnett?--mamma had heard every word. When I left Cyril, I found her crouching on the stairs in a dark corner. Oh, I shall never forget the turn it gave me! She had got her arms over her head, and they seemed quite stiff, and her fingers were clenched. Biddy was crying over her; but she did not move or speak, and it was quite an hour before we could get her into her own room.'

'You ought to have sent for the doctor.'

'Biddy would not let us; she said it was only sorrow of heart, and that she had seen her once before like that, when her husband died. What makes Biddy say that, Captain Burnett, if our father be still living?'

Michael shook his head.

'Biddy chooses to persist in her falsehood. I have seen your father, Mollie. I am very sorry for him; with all his faults, he loves his children.' Then a low sound like a groan escaped Kester's lips. 'And I think his children should be sorry for him, too; he has had a hard, unhappy life. But there is no time to talk of this now; I want you to finish about last night, and then I must go upstairs.'

'There is nothing more to tell. We could not induce mamma to undress or to go to bed, so Biddy covered her up and told me to go away. She was with her all night. With all her crossness and tiresome ways, Biddy is always good to mamma; she was talking to her almost as though she were a baby, for I stood and listened a minute before I closed the door. I could hear her say:

'"Miss Olive avick, what was the good of telling the children? You should hush it up for Mr. Cyril's sake, and for the sake of the dear young lady he is going to marry." But he is not going to marry her; mamma said so more than once.'

And then, in a few grave words, Michael told them all that it was necessary for them to know.

'Poor, poor Cyril! Oh, my dear Miss Ross!' was all Mollie could say.

Kester seemed nearly choking.

'Let me go to him, dear Mollie. But I think I will see your mother first. Biddy seems to be a bad adviser. After all, she may require a doctor.'

And then he put his hand on Kester's shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Mollie could not hear what it was, but she saw the boy's face brighten a little as he took up Booty to prevent him from following his master.

CHAPTER XLI

'THERE SHALL BE PEACE BETWEEN US'

'Men exist for the sake of one another. Teach them, then, or bear with them.'

'When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately consider with what opinion about good or evil he has done wrong; for when thou hast seen this thou wilt pity him, and wilt neither wonder nor be angry.'--M. AURELIUS ANTONINUS.

Biddy was hovering about the pa.s.sage, as usual. She regarded Michael with marked disfavour when he asked if he could see her mistress. In her ignorant way, she had arrived at the conclusion that the Captain was at the bottom of the mischief.

'Why couldn't he leave things to sort themselves?' she grumbled within herself. 'But men are over-given to meddling; they mar more than they make.'

'My mistress is too ill to see anyone,' she returned shortly.

'Do you mean that she is in her own room?' he asked.

But even as he put the question, he could answer it for himself. The door of the adjoining room was wide open, and he was certain that it was empty.

'Sick folk do not always stop in their beds,' retorted Biddy still more sourly; 'but for all that, she is not fit to see visitors.'

She squared her skinny elbows as she spoke, as though prepared to bar his entrance; but he looked at her in his quiet, authoritative way.

'She will see me, Biddy. Will you kindly allow me to pa.s.s?' And the old woman drew back, muttering as she did so.

But he was obliged to confess that Biddy was right as he opened the door, and for a moment he hesitated on the threshold.

Mrs. Blake was half sitting, half lying on the couch in a curiously uneasy position, as though she had flung herself back in some sudden faintness; her eyes were closed, and the contrast between the pale face and dark dishevelled hair was very striking; her lips, even, were of the same marble tint. He had always been compelled to admire her, but he had done so in grudging fashion; but now he was constrained to own that her beauty was of no mean order. An artist would have raved over her; she would have made a model for a Judith or a Magdalene.

As he stood there with his hand on the door, she opened her eyes and looked at him; but she did not change her att.i.tude or address him.

Michael made up his mind that he must speak to her.

'I am sorry to see you look so ill, Mrs. Blake.'

He took her hand as he spoke; it felt weak and nerveless. But she drew it hastily away, and her forehead contracted.

'Of course I am ill.'

'I hope Biddy has sent for a doctor; I think you should see one without delay.'

But she shook her head.

'No doctor would do me any good. I would not see him if he came.'