"Thank you, sir," was all Norman could say; and as Mr. Wilmot went
out by the front door, he slowly went up again, and, lingering on the
landing-place, was met by Mr. Ward, who told him to his relief--for
the mere thinking of it renewed the faint sensation--that he had
better not go to his father's room.

There was nothing to be done but to return to Ethel and Harry, and
tell them all; with some humiliation at being helpless, where Flora
was doing so much, and to leave their father to be watched by a
stranger. If he had been wanted, Norman might have made the effort,
but being told that he would be worse than useless, there was nothing
for him but to give way.

They sat together in Ethel's room till somewhere between eight and
nine o'clock, when good old nurse, having put her younger ones to
bed, came in search of them. "Dear, dear! poor darlings," said she,
as she found them sitting in the dark; she felt their cold hands, and
made them all come into the nursery, where Mary was already, and,
fondling them, one by one, as they passively obeyed her, she set them
down on their little old stools round the fire, took away the high
fender, and gave them each a cup of tea. Harry and Mary ate enough
to satisfy her, from a weary craving feeling, and for want of
employment; Norman sat with his elbow on his knee, and a very aching
head resting on his hand, glad of drink, but unable to eat; Ethel
could be persuaded to do neither, till she found old nurse would let
her have no peace.

The nurse sent them all to bed, taking the two girls to their own
room, undressing them, and never leaving them until Mary was in a
fair way of crying herself to sleep--for saying her prayers had