The secret of Oaklands

"Father, what is the matter?"

The question came in sharp tones of distress from a young girl who at that moment entered the breakfast-room. Quickly she sprang to her father's side and began chafing his cold hands, as she gazed with fear-stricken eyes into the beloved face before her.

Cyril Woodford made no response, but sat as if stunned, staring with apparently unseeing eyes at the newspaper before him, which his nerveless fingers had just dropped. His face was ashen, and there was a nervous twitching about his lips as he tried to moisten them with his tongue.

"Father dear, speak--tell me why you look like this! Has something terrible happened?"

No answer came in words, but with a shaking finger the man pointed to the heading of a column in the newspaper in front of him.

GREAT FINANCIAL CRASH FAILURE OF SAMPSON'S BANK, LTD.

For a few seconds Margaret Woodford looked at the words with a puzzled expression wrinkling her brows, then something of the trouble involved dawned upon her mind.

"Sampson's has failed, I see--does--does it mean you have lost some money, dear?" she asked a little hesitatingly.

"All--_all_," he said huskily, while a shiver shook his frame as though he were attacked with ague.

The girl's face paled.

There was silence in the room for a few moments, and then, rising from her cramped position at his side, she said gently:

"I'm going to ring for some fresh coffee, father; yours is cold."

"I don't want anything; I couldn't eat," he answered.

But, ignoring this remark, she rang and gave her order, and in a few minutes a fresh cup of the fragrant beverage was poured out and brought to him.

"Drink it, just to please me," she said coaxingly, "you are so cold; and presently you will explain it all to me, won't you?"

For a minute or two longer her father sat silent, then hastily drained the cup before him, rose a little uncertainly, and went out of the room, leaving his breakfast still untasted.

His daughter remained seated, mechanically eating a finger of toast, and deep in painful thought.

She could not, of course, grasp the enormity of this thing, but that it meant serious trouble was evident. She had never seen her father disturbed like this before, and those last words of his, repeated so despairingly, had been enough to fill her with vague alarm. It surely could not mean the giving up of their beautiful home? Why, the Abbey House had been in their family for generations, and every stone of it was precious to her. And she knew only too well how her father loved it.

The Woodfords of the Abbey House were well known in the county, and the thought that strangers might one day occupy it had never hitherto suggested itself to anyone's mind.

Margaret started slightly as the idea for the first time presented itself to her now.

She gazed with tear-dimmed eyes at the beautiful grassy terraces, and the grand old cedar-tree rearing its head in front of the dining-room windows and sweeping the lawn with its graceful branches. It all looked so peaceful outside in the morning sunlight, as though nothing could disturb the calm serenity of the place.

Alas! for appearances--how poor an index they often are to the stern realities of life!

Mr. Woodford scarcely saw his daughter any more that day; he remained in the library until quite late in the afternoon, refusing admittance to everyone, spending his time in writing letters, and sorting papers in his desk with nervous fingers.

At last Margaret could bear the suspense no longer, and persisted in knocking at the door until he responded to her entreaties to come in.

"There is something very wrong with the master to-day," said old John, the man-servant, as he addressed his fellow-servants. "Something very wrong," and he shook his head dolorously as he spoke.

"Yes--that there is, and no mistake," answered cook, "and as for Miss Margaret, she looks as white as a sheet; just because the master wouldn't come in to lunch she must needs go without."

"I wonder what it means. It's something as come by post upset them, because things seemed all right when the master came down this morning; he looked as cheerful as could be, and when I set eyes on him half an hour later, I never saw anyone look worse."

"Well--I'll tell you what I think it is----"

But cook's explanations, or ideas, were cut short by the violent ringing of the library bell, not once, but two or three times, peremptorily.

"My! listen to that now, be quick, John! Good gracious, I never heard a bell tugged in that way before!"

John forgot he was getting on in years as he hurried breathless up the stairs; he felt already a presentiment of trouble, but he was not prepared for what he found.

"Why--what--what's the matter, miss?" he exclaimed, as he opened the library door and hurried to his master's side.

"I don't know!---oh, I don't know! but father is very ill--send for the doctor, John, quick--let George take the grey mare!"

John was shocked by what he saw, but he was a sensible man who knew how to keep his head in an emergency. Without further hesitation he hurried back to the servants' hall even faster than he had left it, and quietly issued his orders to the groom.

"Ride hard!--the master's very ill if I'm not much mistaken;" and not waiting to answer any of the questions which were rained upon him, he at once returned to his young mistress.

The time seemed interminable while the two watched by the master of the house, longing and praying in the silence of their hearts for the medical man's arrival.

At last the welcome approach of his gig sounded on the carriage drive, and in a few moments more Dr. Crane was in the room--quiet, calm, issuing his orders clearly and decidedly, and bringing with him a sense of comfort to the frightened girl.

When the patient was at last in bed, and John installed to watch beside him, the doctor called Margaret aside and placed an arm-chair for her.

"Now tell me how this attack began, and what you think brought it on?"

In a few words Miss Woodford described the day's occurrences, and explained that while her father was talking to her that evening in the library, he suddenly cried out as though in great pain and put his hand to the back of his neck, then he seemed to lose consciousness.