"No," was the curt response, "it is that poor child at the palace. I have been up with her all night."
"What is the matter now?" Lord Dawne inquired.
"Now—it is her brain," the doctor answered; then stepped into his carriage and was driven away.
Lord Dawne dismounted and met Mrs. Orton Beg, who was coming out with her bonnet on.
"No hope, I suppose!" he said in a tone of deep commiseration.
"Oh, it is worse than death!" she answered. "I am going there now. Dr.
Galbraith says I shall be of use."
The bishop and Angelica spent some time in the library together that morning. The bishop had sent for Angelica to talk to her, and she had come to talk to the bishop; and, being quicker of speech than he, she had taken the initiative.
"Did you ever feel like a horse with a bearing rein, champing his bit?" she began the moment she burst into the room.
"No, I never did," said the bishop severely.
"Ah! then I can never make you understand how I feel now!" she said, throwing herself on to a chair opposite to him, sideways, so that she could clasp the back. "You look very unsympathetic," she remarked.