After a time the boy raised his eyes, looked at her and spoke:

"Will it be soon, Cecile?"

"I think so, Maurice; I think it must be soon now."

"I'm so cold, Cecile, and it's getting so dark."

"Never mind, darling, stepmother will soon wake now, and then you
can come indoors and sit by the fire."

The boy, with a slight impatient sigh, laid his head once more on
her shoulder, and the grave trio sat on as before.

Presently a step was heard approaching inside the house--it came
along the passage, the door was opened, and a gentleman in a plain
black coat came out. He was a doctor and a young man. His smooth,
almost boyish face looked so kind that it could not but be an index
to a charitable heart.

He stopped before the children, looking at them with interest and
pity.

"How is our stepmother, Dr. Austin?" asked Cecile, raising her head
and speaking with alacrity.

"Your stepmother is very ill, my dear--very ill indeed. I stopped
with her to write a letter which she wants me to post. Yes, she is
very ill, but she is awake now; you may go upstairs; you won't
disturb her."