"Doctor Hodges spoke of ordering horses," said Nizza, at length breaking silence. "Are you going on a journey?"
"I am about to take Amabel to Ashdown Park, in Berkshire, to-morrow morning," replied Leonard. "She is dangerously ill."
"Of the plague?" asked Nizza, anxiously.
"Of a yet worse disorder," replied Leonard, heaving a deep sigh—"of a broken heart."
"Alas! I pity her from my soul!" replied Nizza, in a tone of the deepest commiseration. "Does her mother go with her?"
"No," replied Leonard, "I alone shall attend her. She will be placed under the care of a near female relative at Ashdown."
"Would it not be better,—would it not be safer, if she is in the precarious state you describe, that some one of her own sex should accompany her?" said Nizza.
"I should greatly prefer it," rejoined Leonard, "and so I am sure would Amabel. But where is such a person to be found?"
"I will go with you, if you desire it," replied Nizza, "and will watch over her, and tend her as a sister."
"Are you equal to the journey?" inquired Leonard, somewhat doubtfully.