It struck me cruelly to think of Harry's father leaving us, but I had no
time to dwell on the thought, for now Althea sank down at my feet,
helpless and senseless like one who was dead indeed; and much ado we
had to bring her out of her swoon, which was very long, and she very
feeble when she was recovered from it. We got her to her room, and
persuaded her to lie down and sleep; and when we came away, Aunt Golding
turns to me with a puzzled look, saying,--

'What means this, Lucy? I never thought your sister one of those fine
ladies who swoon for every trifle;--what is it, think you?'

'Andrew,' says I, 'and the image of his danger; you made a frightful
picture of it, dear madam, do you know?'

'Ah, set a thief to catch a thief!' says Aunt Golding, and I felt glad
to hear her laugh once more; 'my love-passages are of too ancient a date
to serve me, it seems, but yours are fresh and new, my Lucy. But what of
Andrew? is Althea dear to him?'

'More dear than he knows, or she guesses,' quoth I; at which our good
aunt laughed again, but then said,--

'It's a thing that would have pleased me well, had I been told that it
would happen a year ago, but now I see nothing but trouble in it. There
would be no equal yoke there, my Lucy. Whatever extravagances Andrew
hath fallen into, the love of Christ runs through all he does and
thinks. And canst thou say the like of thy sister?'

'Not yet,' I murmured, but Aunt Golding heard me, and said,--