"What is it, old fellow?" cried Haggard with unusual condescension as he advanced.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, Mr. Haggard. Here's a telegram for you. I hope it's no bad news," he added.
The two girls, with considerable effort and many an ominous crack, covered, too, with rosy blushes, perhaps from their exertions, had now managed to regain their feet.
"Oh, I do hope it's nothing dreadful," said the elder girl with pretty sympathy.
Haggard, as he tore the envelope open and read the telegram with difficulty by the light of one of the Chinese lanterns, blurted out:
"By Jove! Shirtings, the poor old governor's dead."
There was considerable consternation. The Warren party hurried away, and though dancing went on, the two young hostesses, perhaps in their natural grief for their friend's loss, joined in it no more.
As poor Connie wept herself to sleep that night in her sister's arms, she whispered her tale of sorrow into her ear. Her last words were, "Lottie, darling, I shall never, never forgive pa."
