She perceived at a glance that Mr. Monroe was asleep; and, placing her finger upon her lip to enjoin silence, she put a note into Ellen's hand, saying it the same time in a low whisper, "Mr. Wentworth's servant has just brought this, with a request that it should be immediately conveyed to you. Miss."
Marian then withdrew.
Ellen tore open the note, and read as follows:—
"I grieve to state that your little Richard has been attacked with a sudden and dangerous malady. Come to my house for an hour—if you can possibly steal away, without exciting suspicion. My servant will convey this to you through your faithful confidant.
"DAVID WENTWORTH."
Ellen flung the note frantically upon the table, and rushed out of the room.
She hurried up stairs, put on her bonnet and cloak, and, having told Marian to sit up for her, hastened from the house—one sole idea occupying her mind,—the danger of her well-beloved child!
When she arrived at Mr. Wentworth's abode, she was received by that gentleman's wife, who immediately said, "The danger is over—the crisis is past! Do not alarm yourself—my husband no longer fears for your son's life. He, however, deemed it to be his duty to send for you."
"Oh! he did well—he acted kindly and considerately," returned Ellen. "But let me assure myself that my boy is no longer in danger."