"Regie is verr vell," said Fräulein, with decision. "Tell her he is so vell as he vas."

"He is very much shaken," said Mrs. Gresley, indignant mother-love flashing in her wet eyes. "He is a delicate child, and she, Hester—may God forgive her!—struck him in one of her passions. She might have killed him. And the poor child fell and bruised his arm and shoulder. And he was bringing her a little present when she did it. The child had done nothing whatever to annoy her, had he, James?"

"Nothing," said Mr. Gresley, and his conscience pricking him, he added, "I must own Hester had always seemed fond of Regie till last night."

He felt that it would not be entirely fair to allow the Bishop to think that Hester was in the habit of maltreating the children.

"I have told him that his own mother will take care of him," said Mrs. Gresley, "and that he need not be afraid, his aunt shall never come back again. When I saw his little arm I felt I could never trust Hester in the house again." As Mrs. Gresley spoke she felt she was making certainty doubly sure that the woman of whom she was jealous would return no more.

"Regie cry till his 'ead ache because you say Miss Gresley no come back," said Fräulein, looking at Mrs. Gresley, as if she would have bitten a piece out of her.

"I think, Fräulein, it is the children's lesson-time," said Mr. Gresley, majestically.

Who could have imagined that unobtrusive, submissive Fräulein, gentlest and shyest of women, would put herself forward in this aggressive manner. The truth is, it is all very well to talk, you never can tell what people will do. They suddenly turn round and act exactly opposite to their whole previous character. Look at Fräulein!

That poor lady, recalled thus to a sense of duty, hurried from the room, and the Bishop, who had opened the door for her, closed it gently behind her.

"You must excuse her, my lord," said Mr. Gresley; "the truth is, we are all somewhat upset this morning. Hester would have saved us much uneasiness, I may say anxiety, if she had mentioned to us yesterday evening that she was going back to you. No doubt she overtook your carriage, which put up at the inn for half an hour."

"No," said the Bishop, "she came on foot. She—walked all the way."

Mr. Gresley smiled. "I am afraid, my lord, Hester has given you an inaccurate account. I assure you, she is incapable of walking five miles, much less ten."

"She took about five hours to do it," said the Bishop, who had hesitated an instant, as if swallowing something unpalatable. "In moments of great excitement nervous persons like your sister are capable of almost anything. The question is, whether she will survive the shock that drove her out of your house last night. Her hands are severely burned. Dr. Brown, whom I left with her, fears brain fever."