at hope
revived.

This morning at breakfast Teresa's thoughts were so busily occupied with
her _fiance_ that she barely realised the meaning of the words on the
sheet before her. She was automatically turning to read them once more
when her attention was attracted by a movement at the end of the table
where her father had his place.

A moment before the Major had opened a long business-like letter which
he still clasped in both hands, but he had fallen back in his chair, and
his face was blanched and terrible to behold. As Teresa stared in amaze
it seemed to her that with every second his body was changing, growing
smaller, and more helpless. "Father!" she cried loudly. "Father!" but
he had no eyes for her, he was staring across the table into his wife's
face.

"Margaret!" he gasped. "Margaret. It is ruin! I am a murderer,
Margaret, a thief--I've played with the money that belonged to you, and
the children, and it's gone. We are ruined, Margaret!--it is all gone.
What have I done! What have I done!"

Mrs Mallison rose from her seat and hurried round the table. She
opened her arms as she went; they were wide open when she reached her
husband's side, and he shrank into them, his head sliding downward on
her shoulder with a strange unnatural looseness. "As if he had no
neck," Teresa thought to herself as she looked on, "as if he had no
neck!"

"There, my dear, there!" cried the wife tenderly, "don't get upset!
Whatever you've done, you meant it for the best. We know you well
enough to be sure of that. There, my dear, there! You've been good to
us for thirty-five years--we're not going to blame you if you've made a
mistake now... Teresa! speak to your father... comfort him... Henry,
look up!... My God... Henry, _speak_!"

Her voice rose to a wail, for even as she spoke, even as she cradled him
in her arms, the bolt fell,--so suddenly, so swiftly, that one second it
was not, and the next it was there. One side of the face crumpled and
fell, the eye closed, the mouth stretched in a ghastly grin. His wife
seized his right arm, and shook it violently, but it fell to his side,
heavy as lead. Within the loose tweed coat the shoulder seemed to
disappear.

"Mother, Mother!" cried Teresa wildly, "you were so kind to him. You
were so kind... You didn't blame him one bit."

They got him to bed and sent for the doctor, but he never regained
consciousness. Before the afternoon was over he had breathed