CHAPTER XXIV.
WEEPING MAY ENDURE FOR A NIGHT I could not suppress an exclamation when Mr.Hamilton mentioned the name.
Susan Locke! Poor, simple, loving-hearted Susan! What would become of Phoebe if she died?
Mr.Hamilton seemed to read my thoughts.
'Yes,' he said, looking at me attentively, 'I knew you would be sorry; Miss Locke was a great favourite of yours.

Poor woman! it is a sad business.

I am afraid she is very ill: they ought to have sent for me before.

Now, if you are ready, we will start at once.' 'I will not keep you another minute.

Good-bye, Ursula.' And Gladys kissed me, and quietly followed us to the door.