Again those melancholy voices cried,
"Our woe is come! Our woe-- our woe is come!"
And I, too, mourn'd, and knew 'twas Winter come.

THE DEAD SECRET.
CHAPTER THE NINTH. THE NEW NURSE.

As the clock struck seven, Mr. Orridge
put on his hat to go to the Tiger's Head.
He had just opened his own door, when he
was met on the step by a messenger, who
summoned him immediately to a case of
sudden illness in the poor quarter of the
town. The inquiries he made satisfied him
that the appeal was really of an urgent
nature, and that there was no help for it but to
delay his attendance for a little while at the
inn. On reaching the bedside of the patient,
he discovered symptoms in the case which
rendered an immediate operation necessary.
The performance of this professional duty
occupied some time. It was a quarter to
eight before he left his house, for the second
time, on his way to the Tiger's Head.

On entering the inn door, he was informed
that the new nurse had arrived as early as
seven o'clock, and had been waiting for him,
in a room by herself, ever since. Having
received no orders from Mr. Orridge, the
landlady had thought it safest not to introduce
the stranger to Mrs. Frankland before
the doctor came.

"Did she ask to go up into Mrs. Frankland's
room ? " inquired Mr. Orridge.

"Yes, sir," replied the landlady. " And I
thought she seemed rather put out when I
said that I must beg her to wait till you got
here. Will you step this way, and see her at
once, sir? She is in my parlour."

Mr. Orridge followed the landlady into a
little room at the back of the house, and
found Mrs. Jazeph sitting alone in the corner
farthest from the window. He was rather
surprised to see that she drew her veil down
the moment the door was opened.

"I am sorry you should have been kept
waiting," he said; " but I was called away
to a patient. Besides, I told you between
seven and eight, if you remember; and it is
not eight o'clock yet."

"I was very anxious to be in good time,
sir," said Mrs. Jazeph. There was an accent
of restraint in the quiet tones in which she
spoke which struck Mr. Orridge's ear, and a
little perplexed him. She was apparently,
not only afraid that her face might betray
something, but apprehensive also that her
voice might tell him more than her words
expressed. What feeling was she anxious to
conceal? Was it irritation at having been
kept waiting so long by herself in the
landlady's room?

"If you will follow me," said Mr. Orridge
"I will take you to Mrs. Frankland
immediately."

Mrs. Jazeph rose slowly, and, when she
was on her feet, rested her hand for an
Instant on a table near her. That action,
momentary as it was, helped to confirm the
doctor in his conviction of her physical
unfitness for the position which she had
volunteered to occupy.

"You seem tired," he said, as he led the
way out of the door. " Surely, you did not
walk all the way here?"

"No, sir. My mistress was so kind as to
let one of the servants drive me in the pony
chaise." There was the same restraint in her
voice, as she made that answer; and still she
never attempted to lift her veil. While
ascending the inn stairs Mr. Orridge mentally
resolved to watch her first proceedings in
Mrs. Frankland's room closely, and to send,
after all, for the London nurse, unless Mrs.
Jazeph showed remarkable enthusiasm and
aptitude in the performance of her new
duties.

The room which Mrs. Frankland occupied
was situated at the back of the house, having
been chosen in that position, with the object
of removing her as much as possible from the
bustle and noise about the inn door. It was
lighted by one window overlooking a few
cottages, beyond which spread the rich grazing
grounds of West Somersetshire, bounded by
a long monotonous line of thickly-wooded
hills. The bed was of the old-fashioned kind,
with the customary four posts and the
inevitable damask curtains. It projected from
the wall into the middle of the room, in
such a situation, as to keep the door on the
right hand of the person occupying it, the
window on the left, and the fireplace opposite
the foot of the bed. On the side of the bed
nearest the window, the curtains were open,
while at the foot, and on the side near the
door, they were closely drawn. By this
arrangement the interior of the bed was
necessarily concealed from the view of any
person on first entering the room.

"How do you find yourself to-night, Mrs.
Frankland ? " asked Mr. Orridge, reaching
out his hand to undraw the curtains. " Do
you think you will be any the worse for a
little freer circulation of air ? "

"On the contrary, doctor, I shall be all
the better," was the answer. "But I am
afraid — in case you have ever been disposed
to consider me a sensible woman—that my
character will suffer a little in your estimation,
when you see how I have been occupying
myself for the last hour."

Mr. Orridge smiled as he undrew the
curtains, and laughed outright when he
looked at the mother and child. Mrs. Frankland
had been amusing herself, and gratifying
her taste for bright colours, by dressing out
her baby with blue ribbons as he lay asleep.
He had a necklace, shoulder-knots, and bracelets,
all of blue ribbon; and to complete the
quaint finery of his costume, his mother's
smart little lace cap had been hitched comically
on one side of his head. Rosamond
herself, as if determined to vie with the baby