CHAPTER XI.
A MORNING SERVICE Mr.Fregelius replied he was as well as could be expected; that the doctor said no complications were likely to ensue, but that here upon this very bed he must lie for at least two months.

"That," he added, "is a sad thing to have to say to a man into whose house you have drifted like a log into a pool of the rocks." "It is not my house, but my father's, who is at present in France," answered Morris.

"But I can only say on his behalf that both you and your daughter are most welcome until you are well enough to move to the Rectory." "Why should I not go there at once ?" interrupted Stella.

"I could come each day and see my father." "No, no, certainly not," said Morris.

"How could you live alone in that great, empty house ?" "I am not afraid of being alone," she answered, smiling; "but let it be as you like, Mr.Monk--at any rate, until you grow tired of us, and change your mind." Then Mr.Fregelius told Morris what he had not yet heard--that when it became known that they had deserted Stella, leaving her to drown in the sinking ship, the attentions of the inhabitants of Monksland to the cowardly foreign sailors became so marked that their consul at Northwold had thought it wise to get them out of the place as quickly as possible.
While this story was in progress Stella left the room to speak to the nurse who had been engaged to look after her father at night.
Afterwards, at the request of Mr.Fregelius, Morris told the tale of his daughter's rescue.