"Mr. Angus," she began, her face beaming with a strange expression of hope and tenderness, "forgive me for saying it, you have grown morbid, brooding over your past. With all my heart I thank you for your confidence, which I consider as sacred as the grave. Let me say that I look forward confidently to the hour when the sorrow which has weighed you down to the dust will be driven away like the morning cloud. Pray for that time as though you believed God has power to help you. Have entire faith in His promise."
Before he could answer she had turned into side path and was presently lost to view.
[CHAPTER IX.]
THE DOCTOR'S DIAGNOSIS.
ON going to dinner, Marion was not much surprised to hear that the pastor had requested to be excused from the table on the plea of a headache. Mrs. Asbury was preparing tea and toast, which the servant stood waiting to take up on a tray. At this moment Ethel came running up, her face flushed, exclaiming,—
"Mamma, may I stay with Mr. Angus? He is sitting in the chair with his eyes shut, and he looks real sick."
"I'll carry the tray myself," said Mrs. Asbury, glancing at her husband. "No, Ethel, stay here till I come back."
"He is worse than usual," she explained presently, as she brought back the food untouched. "Ethel, dear, as soon as you have eaten, you may go to him. Strange what an influence she has,"—turning to the family. "He asked it as a favor, if I could spare her."
Mr. and Mrs. Asbury were so occupied with anxiety about Mr. Angus, whose strength seemed always on the point of giving way, that they did not notice Marion's abstraction. As they were rising from the silent meal, she asked,—
"Can I have the horse and buggy, uncle? I want to drive to N—. I am going for Dr. Moore to see Mary Falkner."