nor did she look as if she had shed tears, though her face was pale
and her eyes black-ringed, and when old nurse, now very old indeed,
tottered in sobbing, she flung herself to the other end of the room.
It was more from nurse than from Janet that Carey learnt the
particulars, such as they were, namely, that the girl had been half-
dressed when she had taken alarm from her grandmother's unresponsive
stillness, and had rushed down to her father's room. He had found
that all had long been over. His friend, old Dr. Lucas, had come
immediately, and had pronounced the cause to have been heart
complaint.

Nurse said her master had been "very still," and had merely given the
needful orders and written a few letters before going to his
patients, for the illness was at its height, and there were cases for
which he was very anxious.

The good old woman, who had lived nearly all her life with her
mistress, was broken-hearted; but she did not forget to persuade
Caroline to take food, telling her she must be ready to cheer up the
master when he should come in, and assuring her that the throbbing
headache which disgusted her with all thoughts of eating, would be
better for the effort. Perhaps it was, but it would not allow her to
bring her thoughts into any connection, or to fix them on what she
deemed befitting, and when she saw that the book over which Janet had
been asleep in the twilight was "The Last of the Mohicans," she was
more scandalised than surprised.

It was past Janet's bedtime, but though too proud to say so, she
manifestly shrank from her first night of loneliness, and her mother,
herself unwilling to be alone, came with her to her room, undressed