fault--driving Leonard to that place; and he was in such misery, that
Richard could not leave him.'

'I am glad he has the grace to feel it at last,' said Tom.

'It must be very terrible!' said Mary. 'He says he cannot stay in that
house, for every room reproaches him; and he groaned as if he was in
tremendous bodily pain.'

'What, you assisted at this scene?' said Tom, looking at her rather
sharply.

'No; but Richard told me; and I heard the groans as I sat on the
stairs.'

'Sat on the stairs?'

'Yes. I could not go back to Ave's room for fear of waking her.'

'And how long?'

'Towards an hour, I believe. I did all that piece,' said Mary,
displaying a couple of inches of a stocking leg, 'and I think it was
pretty well in the dark.'

'Sitting on the stairs for an hour in the dark,' said Tom, as he gave
Mary the candle he had been lighting for her. 'That may be called
unappreciated devotion.'

'I never can tell what Tom means,' said Mary, as she went up-stairs
with Ethel. 'It was a very comfortable rest. I wish you had had the
same, dear Ethel, you look so tired and worn out. Let me stay and help
you. It has been such a sad long day; and oh! how terrible this is!
And you know him better than any of us, except Aubrey.'

Mary stopped almost in dismay, for her sister, usually so firm, broke
down entirely, and sitting down on a low chair, threw an arm round her,
and resting her weary brow against her, gave way to long tearless sobs,
or rather catches of breath. 'Oh! Mary! Mary!' she said, between her
gasps, 'to think of last year--and Coombe--and the two bright boys--and
the visions--and the light in those glorious eyes--and that this should
be the end!'

'Dear, dear Ethel,' said Mary, with fast-flowing tears and tender
caresses, 'you have kept us all up; you have always shown us it was for
the best.'

'It is! it is!' cried Ethel. 'I do, I _will_ believe it! If I had
only seen his face as papa tells of it, I could keep hold of the glory
of it and the martyr spirit. Now I only see his earnest, shy,
confiding look--and--and I don't know how to bear it.' And Ethel's
grasp of Mary in both arms was tightened, as if to support herself
under her deep labouring sobs of anguish. Ah! he was very fond of you.'

'There never was any one beyond our own selves that loved me so well. I
always knew it would not last--that it ought not; but oh! it was
endearing; and I did think to have seen him a shining ligh