Bob Gliddery returns with Pleasant Riderhood, who was out when sought for, and hard to find. She has a shawl over her head, and her first action, when she takes it off weeping, and curtseys to Miss Abbey, is to wind her hair up.

“Thank you, Miss Abbey, for having father here.”

“I am bound to say, girl, I didn’t know who it was,” returns Miss Abbey; “but I hope it would have been pretty much the same if I had known.”

Poor Pleasant, fortified with a sip of brandy, is ushered into the first-floor chamber. She could not express much sentiment about her father if she were called upon to pronounce his funeral oration, but she has a greater tenderness for him than he ever had for her, and crying bitterly when she sees him stretched unconscious, asks the doctor, with clasped hands: “Is there no hope, sir? O poor father! Is poor father dead?”