ss, serene body--"I was not kind to you. I
frabbed you, and plagued you from the first, my lamb! I came and cut
off your pretty locks in this very room--I did--and you said never
an angry word to me;--no! not then, nor many a time after, when I
was very sharp and cross to you.--No! I never was kind to you, and
I dunnot think the world was kind to you, my darling,--but you are
gone where the angels are very tender to such as you--you are, my
poor wench!" She bent down and kissed the lips, from whose marble,
unyielding touch Mr Donne recoiled, even in thought.

Just then, Mr Benson entered the room. He had returned home before
his sister, and come upstairs in search of Sally, to whom he wanted
to speak on some subject relating to the funeral. He bowed in
recognition of Mr Donne, whom he knew as the member for the town, and
whose presence impressed him painfully, as his illness had been the
proximate cause of Ruth's death. But he tried to check this feeling,
as it was no fault of Mr Donne's. Sally stole out of the room, to cry
at leisure in her kitchen.

"I must apologise for being here," said Mr Donne. "I was hardly
conscious where your servant was leading me to, when she expressed
her wish that I should walk upstairs."

"It is a very common idea in this town, that it is a gratification to
be asked to take a last look at the dead," replied Mr Benson.

"And in this case I am glad to have seen her once more," said Mr
Donne. "Poor Ruth!"

Mr Benson glanced up at him at the last word. How did he know her
name? To him she had only been Mrs Denbigh. But Mr Donne had no idea
that he was talking to one unaware of the connexion that had formerly
existed between them; and, though he would have preferred carrying on
the conversation in a warmer room, yet, as Mr Benson was still gazing
at her with sad, lingering love, he went on:

"I did not recognise her when she came to nurse me; I believe I was
delirious. My servant, who had known her long ago, in Fordham, told
me who she was. I cannot tell how I regret that she should have died
in consequence of her love of me."

Mr Benson looked up at him again, a stern light filling his eyes
as he did so. He waited impatiently to hear more, either to quench
or confirm his suspicions. If she had not been lying there, very
still and calm, he would have forced the words out of Mr Donne, by
some abrupt question. As it was, he listened silently, his heart
quick-beating.

"I know that mone