The poor girl unclosed her eyes, and looked wistfully at the face that was bending over her.
'You are with friends, and in God's hands,'said Rowland gently, as the eyes languidly reclosed.
He carried her upstairs to his brother's room, and having placed her on the bed, left her to the care of his mother and Miss Gwynne.
Whilst they were employed in getting her into bed, a house-servant came to say that Miss Gwynne was wanted.

She found a footman awaiting her, who told her that his master had sent him in search of her, and was in a state of great anxiety about her.

She ran up to Mrs Prothero for a few minutes.
'Really papa is too absurd, too provoking,' she said with a vexed voice; 'he has sent after me again, and I am sure he must know I am here.

Let me hear if I can be of any service, Mrs Prothero; I will send anything in the way of medicine or nourishment.

Good-bye, I will come again to-morrow.' 'Mr and Mrs Prothero, the Vicarage, come to-morrow,' said Mrs Prothero.
'Yes, they are to dine with us on Wednesday, and told me they meant to sleep here.