engaged at their factories and mills, and made their way home, scarcely exciting any recognition.
The two girls, on the alert at hearing the wheels of the approaching carriage, rushed to the door, and were honoured by being permitted to kiss the cheek of the bride, as she swept past them. No sooner had they kissed their uncle, and were all assembled in the drawing-room, than Marian asked after her mother.
"I'm afraid you will find her very much changed, Mrs. Creswell," said Maud, who, of course, was spokeswoman. "Mrs. Ashurst is very much weaker, and has—has occasional fits of wandering, which"
"Why was I not informed of this?" asked Marian, in her chilliest tones. "Were you both so much engaged that you could not manage to let me have a line to tell me of this change in my mother's state?"
"Maud wanted to write and tell you, but Dr. Osborne wouldn't let her," blustered out Gertrude. "She never will say anything for her herself, but I'm sure she has been most attentive, Maud has, and I don't think"
"I'm sorry to interrupt this lobgesang, Gertrude; but I must go up and see my mother at once. Be good enough to open the door." "And she sailed out of the room," Gertrude said, afterwards, "as though she'd been a duchess! In one of those rustling silks, don't you know, as stiff as a board, which look as if they'd stand up by themselves!"
When Marian reached her mother's door, and was just about entering, she stopped short, arrested by a low dull moaning sound which fell upon her ear. She listened with her blood curdling within her and her lips growing cold and rigid. Still it came, that low hollow moan, monotonous, dreadful. Then she opened the door, and, passing swiftly in, saw her mother lying tossing on the bed, plucking furtively at the bedclothes, and moaning as she moved her head wearily in its unrest.
"Mother!" cried Marian—"mother, darling mother! don't you know me?" And she flung herself on the bed, and, taking the old woman's head in her arms, softly kissed her lips.
The bright, the momentarily bright, eyes looked at her without seeing her—she knew that—and presently moved away again round the room, as Mrs. Ashurst raised her long lean hand, and, pointing to the wall, said, "Pictures—and books—all fine—all fine!—for my sake!"—uttering the last words in a deep hissing whisper.
Marian was too shocked to speak. Shocked not frightened, she had much natural strength of mind, and had had experience of illness, though not of this character. But she was shocked to see her mother in such a state, and deeply enraged at the fact that the increase of the illness had been kept from her. "Don't you know me?" she repeated; "mother, darling mother, don't you know me? Marian, poor Marian! your daughter Marian!"
"Ah, don't blame her!" said the old woman, in the same whisper. "Poor Marian! poor dear Marian! my Jimmy's pet! She did it for my sake, all for my sake! Carriages and horses and wine for me—wine, rich strong wine for me—all for me, all for my sake, poor Marian! all for my sake!"
"Is she often in this way? Does she often repeat those horrible words?" asked Marian of the servant, of whose presence she then, on raising her head, became for the first time aware.
"Oh yes, miss—I mean, mum!—constantly, mum! She never says anything else, mum, but about some things being for her sake, mum. And she haven't said anything else, miss, since she was off her head—I mean, since she was delirrous,. mum"
"Does she always mention my name Marian?"
"Always, mum, 'poor Marian'—savin' your presence, and not meanin' a liberty—is what she do say, miss, and always about 'for her sake' it's done, whatever it is, which I don't know."
"How long has she been like this? How long have you been with her?"
"A week last Wednesday, mum, was when I was brought from the laundry to be nurse, and if you find your collars and cuffs iron-moulded, mum, or not properly got up, you'll understand it's not me, Dr. Osbin having had me fetched here as bein' strong for nussin' and a good sitter up o' nights"
"Yes, I understand!" said Marian, vacantly; "you won't have to sit up any more; I shall relieve you of that. Just wait here; I shall be back in a few minutes."
Marian hurried down-stairs, and in the drawing-room found her husband, the two girls, and Dr. Osborne, who had joined the party. There must have been some peculiar expression in her face, for she had no sooner opened the door than Mr. Creswell, looking up, hurried across the room and took her hand, saying, anxiously, "What
