The sight of my lady's griefs, or rather the recollection of it, made Mrs.Medlicott talk far more than was her wont.

She told us, with many tears, and much gesticulation, even speaking German at times, when her English would not flow, that my lady sat there, a white figure in the middle of the darkened room; a shaded lamp near her, the light of which fell on an open Bible,--the great family Bible.

It was not open at any chapter or consoling verse; but at the page whereon were registered the births of her nine children.

Five had died in infancy,--sacrificed to the cruel system which forbade the mother to suckle her babies.

Four had lived longer; Urian had been the first to die, Ughtred-Mortimar, Earl Ludlow, the last.
My lady did not cry, Mrs.Medlicott said.