"Oh, uncle Henry," exclaimed Clara, with pale lips, "how is dear papa? We know all about the accident—it's in the Times."
"Stay, Clara dear," said Kate Marston; "your uncle looks tired and anxious. Only tell us one thing, Henry: have you seen Arthur, and is he still living?"
"Yes, Kate; he is in Guy's Hospital, and receiving every attention and kindness, but he is indeed most seriously ill. Don't grieve, my dear Clara," he continued, putting his arm round his niece as she burst into tears at his words, and leading her into the little breakfast parlour; "for grandpapa's sake, and your sister and brothers, keep up a brave spirit. Your dear father is in God's hands, and we must pray and hope."
Clara dried her tears and listened with painful interest to her uncle Henry's description of her poor father's accident, and the illness from which he now suffered.
But her uncle's words had aroused her usual calm self-possession, and she determined to subdue her own sorrow for the sake of those whom she loved so well.
Henry Halford, during the first few days of this sad week, was making himself acquainted with his duties as a curate, and while thus engaged, or busy in the schoolroom, he could banish from his mind the vague suspicions about Arthur which still troubled him when unemployed.
He was mourning over the impossibility of obtaining time to visit the hospital more frequently, when he was one morning surprised soon after breakfast by the appearance of Mr. Drummond and a gentleman whom he introduced as his nephew, George Longford.
On entering the drawing-room, Mr. Drummond came forward with eager sympathy, and taking Henry's offered hand, he exclaimed—
"My dear Henry, I am indeed grieved to hear of these overwhelming troubles which have fallen upon your family in such quick succession, and I and my nephew are come to offer our services if agreeable."
"Pray be seated," said Henry, placing chairs for his visitors.