He spoke to Miss Flora when she brought him some tea." "And admirably she managed," said Alan Ernescliffe.

"I was much afraid of some answer that would rouse him, but she kept her self-possession beautifully, and seemed to compose him in a moment." "She is valuable indeed--so much judgment and activity," said Mr.Ward.
"I don't know what we should have done without her.

But we ought to have Mr.Richard--has no one sent to him ?" Alan Ernescliffe and Norman looked at each other.
"Is he at Oxford, or at his tutor's ?" asked Mr.Wilmot.
"At Oxford; he was to be there to-day, was he not, Norman ?" "What o'clock is it?
Is the post gone--seven--no; it is all safe," said Mr.Ward.
Poor Norman! he knew he was the one who ought to write, but his icy trembling hand seemed to shake more helplessly than ever, and a piteous glance fell upon Mr.Wilmot.
"The best plan would be," said Mr.Wilmot, "for me to go to him at once and bring him home.

If I go by the mail-train, I shall get to him sooner than a letter could." "And it will be better for him," said Mr.Ward.

"He will feel it dreadfully, poor boy.