away from the field.

"What is it, sir? You look pained: I hope I have done nothing to offend
you?"

"No, George," replied the Doctor; "few lads have ever given me so little
cause of offence at any time as you have. But I _am_ pained. I have some
sad news to tell you."

"Sad news for me, sir? Oh, do tell me at once. Is anything the matter at
home?"

"Yes, George; a messenger has just arrived to say that your father has
met with a serious accident; he has been thrown from his chaise, and is
much hurt. The messenger is your uncle, Mr. Brunton; and he desires you
to return at once to London with him."

George waited to hear no more; he bounded away from the Doctor, cleared
the fence which enclosed the garden at a leap, and rushed into the room
where Mr. Brunton was anxiously awaiting him. No tear stood in his eye;
but he was dreadfully pale, and his hands trembled like aspen leaves.
"Oh, uncle!" was all he could say; and, throwing himself into a chair,
he covered his face with his hands.

"Come, George, my boy," said Mr. Brunton, tenderly; "do not give way to
distress. Your poor father is seriously hurt, but he is yet alive. We
have just half an hour to catch the train."

That was enough for George; in a moment he was calm and collected, ran
up to his room to make a few hasty arrangements, and in five minutes was