"SIBYL, darling!" Saying this, Grace woke her sister with a kiss. Sibyl had forgotten all about her trouble, for this morning everything seemed so bright and calm. The sun shone in brightly, lighting up the girl's few pictures and treasures in a pleasant, familiar manner. She had had a long, refreshing sleep, and felt full of life and spirits, so that it was only after a few seconds that she suddenly recollected her miserable evening, and how frightened she had been whilst waiting for Dr. Smith's arrival.

"Gracie, dear, how tired you look! But father is better, isn't he?" "No; no better."

"Has the Doctor been this morning?" "Not yet; and when he comes, it will be of no use, dear."

Why?"

"No use? But Sibyl said this hesitatingly, and suddenly sat up in bed, passing her small hands through her masses of golden hair as if to lift the weight away from her temples. Because, because- Then Grace could keep her secret no longer. She sat down on the bed, and put Sibyl's head on her shoulder.

"

"Sibyl, we have only each other to love now, that is all."

Sibyl burst into tears. She understood now quite well that the trouble which they had been fearing last night had overtaken them.

PRICE TWOPENCE.

Oh,

"Grace, Grace, is father dead? dear, it is so sudden, so terrible! What shall we do?"

This was the first thought of the younger sister-what would they do without him?

"Nan will come to-day, I am sure she will," answered Grace; for, after her father, Nan, since her arrival, had always been. their only adviser, their only support.

"But suppose she can't come? Suppose her aunt is ill-dying? Grace, don't leave me!" for at this moment the front door bell rang, and Grace started up.

"I must go, Sibyl, dear. It may be-it must be Dr. Smith, and he may tell me what to do. There must be a great deal which ought to be done, if I only knew what it was. Stay in bed, Sibyl, and I will bring you up your breakfast when he is gone.

"

Sibyl was nothing loth. She buried herself in the soft pillows and gave way to her grief and to her meditation. She was more advanced in the art of wondering and planning than Grace; for though their education had been the same-and many would have called it a narrow one-yet their minds differed considerably. Grace thought of those she loved before herself, whilst her sister's little touches of pathetic commiseration always centred in a being called Sibyl.

Dr. Smith, of course, knew directly what had happened when he noticed the blinds drawn down. Mrs. Ashton's first thought had been to see that the outward signs of grief were not forgotten, in spite of other motives being wanting. The Doctor had expected nothing else; and yet he shook his head several times as if at some much-perplexing thought, even before he jumped down from his dog-cart and encountered Grace in the hall. He had lost

VOL. VI.-THIRD SERIES.

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all his usual rough, jovial manner as he took the young girl's hand in his.

"Thank you," said Grace, simply. She fancied she knew what the old friend's sympathy meant, and felt grateful for it; as a matter of fact, however, her thoughts were in no way like his.

"At what time was it?" he asked. Not that he cared very much to know; but he felt he must say something.

"I never looked," said Grace, sorrow fully; "I dare say Mrs. Ashton did. Will you come up, Dr. Smith? I have been sitting by him a long time."

Grace's words roused the Doctor at last from his unusual reverie.

"You must not overtax your strength. Yes, I will go up presently; but come in here with me, Grace."

He knew his way well as he pushed open the dining-room door, where at last a maid had lit a fire, and, from force of habit, a man-servant had laid for the dead

master.

"Give me a cup of tea, child."

The Doctor did not require one in the least, Mrs. Smith having seen to his inner man before he had started out; but he wished to see Grace eat some breakfast, and this request had the desired effect. She made tea, and then, from very courtesy, she began to eat too, at the same time talking on with strange calmness, and telling Dr. Smith everything.

It was such a comfort to be able to tell some one-some one, too, who would not cry as Sibyl did.

When, however, she mentioned her father's wish to write something, the Doctor looked up eagerly; but he was disappointed in his expectation. No writing had been accomplished, and barely an intelligible sentence uttered.

"Now, Grace, you must not worry yourself about arrangements for the funeral," he said, almost bluntly; "indeed, you know nothing about such things. Mr. Blackston will come over; I'll see to that. I know he was your father's business man if ever he required one, which was not often. By the way," added the Doctor, as if a new thought had suddenly struck him, "what will you and Sibyl do?"

"Do?" asked Grace, looking at him with rather a puzzled expression. "I don't know. I never heard father say a word about it. He never spoke of death; I wish he had! I don't think he thought of dying so suddenly. Perhaps," added Grace, he wished to write something

about us when he asked for paper; but, you know, he could not hold a pen."

"Yes, I expect he did," answered the Doctor, a little absently, for he was strangely unlike himself; and certainly it was not grief at the death of the master of the Warren, though he had known him for many years.

"We shall never know now," sighed Grace, not noticing the hesitation of her old friend's speech. "I dare say Nan will come to day, if she can. I told you, didn't I, Dr. Smith, that she went to nurse her old aunt? She did not like leaving us; but then she could not guess what would happen."

"Of course not. I hope she will be able to return soon; she is a very good, worthy creature, and I think she would do all she could for you in these trying circumstances."

"I am sure she would!" cried Grace, with glistening eyes. "No one knows how good she is, Dr. Smith, or guesses it, I am sure, except ourselves. She was so kind, so patient with us when we were young-for of course we were very troublesome.' The Doctor smiled.

"I don't believe you were ever 'very troublesome,' Grace. Dear me, time does go quickly. How old are you, or is it an impertinent question now that you are so tall?"

I am

"I am seventeen; but Nan says very old for my years. Sibyl is just a year younger, only her birthday is in June." "Seventeen," sighed Dr. Smith. most unfortunate age." He was half speaking to himself.

"Why?" asked Grace, a little hurt.

"A

"Much too pretty," finished the Doctor, sharply.

"Please don't say that." Grace was again a little hurt. "I suppose she is pretty; at least, of course I think so. never see any one half so nice-looking as dear Sibyl; but I dare say in London there are many prettier girls. We see so few people here; only once we saw at church a very beautiful lady, at least, she was dressed so well; but Sibyl said that if she were dressed as well she would be just as pretty, and I think she would."

Dr. Smith grunted a little as he answered:

"Ah! she said that." But at this minute Grace mentally stopped short. It was so shocking to talk about dresses when her father was lying dead upstairs, that she felt a little angry with Dr. Smith for having led up to this subject; certainly it was very unkind of him.

"Are you coming upstairs?" she asked, in an altered tone; "there is no one there. Sibyl is in bed; she was dreadfully tired, poor child, and so unhappy." The Doctor rose; he, too, was angry with himself, not because he had led the conversation up to dress, but because he had not said one half of the things he had meant to say. He made a great effort now, however.

"My wife sent a message to you, Grace, this morning. She is so sorry for you,

80

"Thank you. How kind of her; I wish we knew her better. We know you so much the best, don't we? But father never liked our going away from home, you know that.”

"Yes, yes, I know; anyhow, Grace, she told me that she would be much pleased to see you and Sibyl at our house, to stay, I mean, for some time."

Grace looked up again a little puzzled. Why should they want to go and visit Mrs. Smith, when all the Warren was theirs to roam about in? Still by nature Grace was courteous and grateful, so she only showed her surprise by that one look.

"Please thank her very much for usfor me and Sibyl-and by-and-by perhaps But of course I must wait till I have talked it over with Nan, mustn't I?"

"Of course, of course," and once more the Doctor did not say what he meant to say, and simply followed Grace upstairs.

He was accustomed to look on death, and it failed to affect him; but to-day Dr. Smith looked with a peculiar interest on the peaceful face, that expressed the quiet repose of the master of the Warren. When he turned away, and Grace had once more locked the door, he paused, and on the threshold of the chamber he said, slowly and reflectively:

"I really believe, Grace, that he meant to do the right thing; but he was always putting off-all his life he put off. When you have something to do, something that

is of consequence to others as well as yourself, take an old man's advice: don't put it off."

Grace did not answer. She did not quite like the implied reproach upon her father; and besides, what could she say?

"I must be off," continued the Doctor, presently, as if he were shaking off remembrances which were in some way painful to him.

"Were you any good to that other-I mean, where you went to last night?" asked Grace, presently, for the recollection of that night would always be engraved on her mind to her dying day; and yet the events seemed now a long way off, and hardly to belong to her own life.

"Yes, she'll pull through-but it was a near thing!-otherwise, child, I would have stayed with you." And the greyhaired, weather-beaten man took and kept Grace's hand in his. He felt a strange new sympathy for this girl. "I will see to everything; only, you know, that lawyer must come by-and-by, and there may be formalities to go through. Still, he is a good sort of fellow-besides, I'll have a talk with him first. Your father had no relations, had he? You never heard him speak of any?"

"Oh, no. I heard him say he was an only son; but perhaps" Grace paused, and did not like to She was going

to say, "My mother had some-" but the words died away on her lips. No oneno, not even Nan-had ever mentioned her mother to her; but she and Sibyl, in confidential moments, had often wondered about her-whether she had been fair, perhaps, and, of course, very pretty? Grace wanted to ask some one now about it, but she dared not; and if the Doctor guessed her wish, he did not help her out with her unexpressed thought. On the contrary, he suddenly pretended to be in great haste, and at once hurried into his trap.

Dr. Smith had several strong and well-defined opinions and crotchets which helped to enliven his life-a life which might otherwise have become somewhat monotonous. One of these crotchets was a firm and rooted belief that he excelled in the art of riding and driving, and joined to this was an unswerving faith in his knowledge of horseflesh. He had had more accidents than any doctor for twenty miles round, and even his wife could have told you how he had been taken in by horse-dealers; but Dr. Smith's belief in himself remained unshaken-though its