Dr. Lanyard, an old friend of the family, raised his eyebrows, but the Major burst forth excitedly, and it was the only time he ever let his feelings get the better of him:
"It's all our doing! Oh, why was I such a fool as to give way about it! His guns were cleared away. It was the last straw! I found him clinging to one. I told Ethel it was a cruel thing to do. I'll never lift up my head again!"
A choke came into his voice, and he hurried out of the room. The doctor turned and followed him. Sidney crept back to her father's room. She would not leave it. The blow had been so sudden, so unexpected, that she could not realise it was true. She knew that her father had not been strong, but he had seemed so much brighter and more active in town that she had had no anxieties about his health, and had never known that his heart was at all weak.
The news spread fast. That afternoon Monica came to the house. One of the old servants begged her to go upstairs to Sidney.
"She's just breaking her heart, ma'am. You may be able to get her to have some food. We've got her out of the room at last, but she's in her own room, and won't come out of it."
Monica went up with a heavy heart. She realised that no earthly comfort could ease Sidney's pain, and in a strange way the words of the parable which Chuckles was so fond of repeating to her came into her mind:
"The rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house."
"'Twill be a terrible loss to Miss Urquhart," the old servant said, as she followed her along the corridor to Sidney's bedroom. "Things have all been turned upside down lately, and I for one don't wish our dear master back. The new mistress has served him shamefully—and I gave her notice this morning."
Monica hardly heard the muttered words; her thoughts were with the storm-tossed one.
"I wonder," she murmured to herself, as she tapped gently at Sidney's door; "I wonder if the house still stands?"