home, he promulgated a decree that Leonard was never to
be mentioned; hoping that his existence might be forgotten by the
little ones.

To hurry from old scenes, and sever former connections, was his sole
thought, as if he could thus break the tie of brotherhood. There was a
half-formed link that had more easily snapped. His courtship had been
one of prudence and convenience, and in the overwhelming period of
horror and suspense had been almost forgotten. The lady's attempts at
sympathy had been rejected by Averil without obstruction from him, for
he had no such love as could have prevented her good offices from
becoming oppressive to his wounded spirit, and he had not sufficient
energy or inclination to rouse himself to a response.

And when the grant of life enabled him to raise his head and look
around him, he felt the failure of his plans an aggravation of his
calamity, though he did not perceive that his impatience to rid himself
of an encumbrance, and clear the way for his marriage, had been the
real origin of the misfortune. Still he was glad that matters had gone
no further, and that there was no involvement beyond what could be
handsomely disposed of by a letter, resigning his pretensions, and
rejoicing that innate delicacy and prudence had prevented what might
have involved the lady's feelings more deeply in the misfortune of his
family: representing himself in all good faith as having retreated from
her proffered sympathy out of devoted consideration for her, and
closing with elaborate thanks for her exertions on behalf of 'his
unhappy brother.'

The letter had the honour of being infinitely lauded by Mrs. Ledwich,
who dwelt on its nobleness and tenderness in many a tete-a-tete, and
declared her surprise and thankfulness at the immunity of her dear
Matilda's heart. In strict confidence, too, Dr. Spencer (among others)
learnt that--though it was not to be breathed till the year was out,
above all till the poor Wards were gone--the dear romantic girl had
made her hand the guerdon for obtaining Leonard's life.

'So there's your fate, Dick,' concluded his friend.

'You forget the influence of the press,' returned Dr. May. 'People
don't propose such guerdons without knowing who is to earn them.'

'Yes, she has long believed in King John,' said Ethel.

Meantime Averil Ward was acquiescing in all Henry's projects with calm
desperate passiveness. She told Mary that she had resolved that she
would neve