“Then let me hear it,” said he, calmly.
She tried to read, but the effort was beyond her strength; and although her lips moved, no sound issued from them. At last she gained sufficient strength to say, “It would agitate you too much, my dear brother, to hear this now. Let us wait for a day or two, till you are stronger, and better able to think about it.”
“I have told you already, that if it be not of Nelly, I can hear it with indifference. Read on, then, Kate.”
“The meaning of it is this, Frank,” cried she, hastily. “There was a fearful crime committed some years back in Ireland,—a relative of ours, named Godfrey, was murdered.”
“Yes—yes—I know it. Go on,” said he, eagerly.
“The circumstances have never come to light, and now, it would appear, some efforts are being made to connect our name with this dreadful act; and—and—in fact, Frank, Dr. Grounsell wishes to learn from you where we were residing at the period in question; and if you be possessed of any letters or papers which could show the relations existing between our family and Mr. Godfrey.”
“You must let me read this for myself, Kate,” said Frank, calmly, taking the letter from her hands; “and now leave me for a while.”
With trembling steps and a sinking heart the young girl retired, to pass hours of intense anxiety in her chamber. At last came a servant to say that her brother desired to see her.
“I must set out for Ireland, Kate,” said the sick youth, as he arose from his chair.
“For Ireland!” cried she, gazing with terror at his wasted and worn figure.