"Read this," said the Vicomte, thrusting the letter into his hands. "It could hardly be worse. D'Hervilly attacked the Republican position at Ste. Barbe five days ago, and was beaten off with frightful loss. God knows what has happened by now, what has happened to René—the worst, I have small doubt. . . ."
Mr. Elphinstone unfolded the letter with shaking hands. But ere he had got to the bottom of the first page, Anne-Hilarion was at his side, pulling at his sleeve.
"Grandpapa, I want to tell you a secret!"
"In a moment, child," said Mr. Elphinstone, his eyes on the letter.
"But it is very important," persisted Anne. "It is about Papa—at least it is about Elspeth."
For once he was not to be put off. The old man yielded.
"Well, my bairn?"
"I want to whisper," said Anne.
So his grandfather bent down and received the following revelation, "I prayed to my ange gardien about Elspeth."
"To make her better, do you mean?"