didn't cast a glance towards my companions, though they were sufficiently near for Linton's sobs to be audible; but hailing me in the almost hearty tone he assumed to none besides, and the sincerity of which, I couldn't avoid doubting, he said.
"It is something to see you so near to my house, Nelly! How are you at the Grange? Let us hear! The rumour goes," he added in a lower tone, "that Edgar Linton is on his death-bed—perhaps they exaggerate his illness?"
"No; my master is dying," I replied, "it is true enough. A sad thing it will be for us all, but a blessing for him!"
"How long will he last, do you think?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said.
"Because," he continued, looking at the two young people, who were fixed under his eye—Linton appeared as if he could not ven-
