ness in the future. Surely Ella ought at least to have been warned-ought at least to have had the option of retaining or dismissing her.

But Anne alone was not to blame. Dessie knew that well enough-had acknowledged the fact unhesitatingly. She too had been in charge, as well as Anne. She too had shown heedlessness, as well as Anne. She too bore the responsibility of the accident, as well as Anne. And Dessie could not help feeling that the knowledge of this, and not only pity for Anne, had caused her readiness to yield to Anne's desire for secrecy.

Dessie was vexed with herself, and with the sensation of relief which she could not suppress, at its being now out of her power to acquaint Ella with what had happened. "For it is out of my power," she argued. "It was just like me to make such a promise without thinking. But now I have promised, I can't undo it. the use of bothering myself. every day of their lives, and for Anne to lose her place, just for one moment's forgetfulness. So perhaps it is a good thing after all that I did promise."

After all, I don't see Children have bumps it would be very hard

Dessie tried to believe that she really thought this.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PROMISE.

"I CANNOT think what is the matter with that child," said Mr. Fitzroy, more than a week later, entering the drawing-room with a disturbed look. Preparations for Dessie's departure were keeping her mother and herself busy, and they had seen little of Cecil or Ella for some days.

"He has been poorly with his teeth for a good while," said Mrs. Fitzroy.

"I am afraid it is something more than that. I met Cecil an hour ago, and he said Mr. Crewe had just been, and did not appear at all satisfied. Cecil asked me to look in, and I went at once."

"How did Hughie seem? asked Edith. "Not at all as he ought. He is heavy and feverish, and scarcely notices anything. One is apt to think more of it, perhaps, with such an intelligent little fellow than with a more dull child. There is a look in his eyes which I don't like."

"What is Mr. Crewe's opinion?" inquired Mrs. Fitzroy.

"He seems to have an idea, from the symptoms, that the child has received a blow on the head.

Ella says not. She has watched him closely ever since this new girl came, and does not see how it can have happened without her knowledge. The girl has been questioned, and denies anything of the sort; not that her denial proves much, perhaps. She has a giddy look, but Ella says she has been extremely careful and attentive the last few days. One does not know what to think.”

"There are no signs of a blow, then, papa?" said Edith.

"Not beyond the usual array of scars and bruises common to children. That is no proof, I am afraid. The effects of a blow on the head are not always seen immediately."

"Do you remember that he had something of a slight fit when he began to cut his teeth?" said Mrs. Fitzroy. "I hope it is nothing of that kind coming on again."

"Mr. Crewe seemed more afraid of some infectious illness, if there has been no blow. One does not know what pranks the nurse may have played, taking him into some infected place. But Ella says 'no' there also. She has never allowed the girl to take him out alone. I don't see how it can have been done, unless by underhand means. Cecil has questioned her closely, and can find out nothing."

"One cannot always know how infection comes,' said Mrs. Fitzroy. "Does Mr. Crewe really think

it is fever?"

"I don't know. He seems at a loss what to think. I wish they had called him in sooner, but

neither Cecil nor Ella are very soon frightened. The girls had better not go to the house until we know what is wrong."

"I should not be afraid," said Edith.

"There is no object in your running any risk. Your mother will, of course, look in; but the quieter the child is kept the better. I would rather you

should be on the safe side."

"And I too," Mrs. Fitzroy added.

To describe Dessie's feelings through this conversation is not easy. She was at the further end of the room when her father went in, reading in the window, and she remained there unobserved. Had she come forward her face must have betrayed her.

More than once she almost started forward with a confession of the truth, but the recollection of her promise withheld her. She bitterly regretted—or thought she regretted her precipitation in making it. She had reason for her regrets. The responsibility which she took upon herself, in concealing the true cause of the child's illness, was indeed heavy. Dessie realised something of this. She knew little

practically of illness, yet she was aware that Mr. Crewe's treatment of the case must be more or less affected by his ignorance of the accident which led to it.

Long after Dessie was left alone she sat on, book in hand, not reading, but turning over in her mind the words she had heard, and striving to think that her father must be mistaken, and that little Hugh would prove to be suffering only from some slight indisposition. In vain-for she could not think so

in her heart. Again and again the conviction came across her with overwhelming strength, that the fall from the sofa lay at the bottom of the mischiefthat she and Anne were to blame for the illness.

She regretted her promise; yet, almost unknown to herself, Dessie was perhaps not sorry for her inability to make the matter known. But for this feeling, she might not have been content to rest in the inability. Once the thought occurred to her that she might see Anne and press to be released from her promise; and then, with a feeling of positive relief, she remembered that her father had forbidden her to go to the house. "So it is quite impossible," she thought. Dessie was not commonly so submissive. "And even if I might go, I don't believe for a moment that Anne would let me say anything. I am certain she would not; and till she does, I am not free to speak about it to any one. Ella herself would be the first to say that it is wrong to break one's word-when I gave it so decidedly too, and twice over. Only the other day Harry told me he knew that of me, that my word could be depended on. So I must just wait and see what to do. After all, I might only make everybody unhappy for nothing; and Anne would lose her place, and Ella would never feel the same for me; and yet Baby will most likely be all right in a day or two. I will not plague myself about it any more."

But to avoid being anxious was out of her power, for she dearly loved the child, and was almost as proud as Ella herself of his engaging ways and remarkable intelligence.