rred Robert after a while to a greater
hopefulness of speech, a constant bright dwelling on the flowery
sunshine for which they were about to exchange the fog and cold of
London? The momentary revival of energy was more pitiful to Flaxman than
his first quiet resignation.

He himself wrote every day to Rose. Strange love-letters! in which the
feeling that could not be avowed ran as a fiery under-current through
all the sad brotherly record of the invalid's doings and prospects.
There was deep trouble in Long Whindale. Mrs. Leyburn was tearful and
hysterical, and wished to rush off to town to see Catherine. Agnes wrote
in distress that her mother was quite unfit to travel, showing her own
inner conviction, too, that the poor thing would only be an extra burden
on the Elsmeres if the journey were achieved. Rose wrote asking to be
allowed to go with them to Algiers; and after a little consultation it
was so arranged, Mrs. Leyburn being tenderly persuaded, Robert himself
writing, to stay where she was.

The morning after the interview with Edmondson, Robert sent for Murray
Edwardes. They were closeted together for nearly an hour. Edwardes came
out with the look of one who has been lifted into 'heavenly places.'

'I thank God,' he said to Catherine, with deep emotion, 'that I ever
knew him. I pray that I may be found worthy to carry out my pledges to
him.'

When Catherine went into the study she found Robert gazing into the fire
with dreamy eyes. He started and looked up to her with a smile.

'Murray Edwardes has promised himself heart and soul to the work. If
necessary, he will give up his chapel to carry it on. But we hope it
will be possible to work them together. What a brick he is! What a
blessed chance it was that took me to that breakfast party at
Flaxman's!'

The rest of the time before departure he spent almost entirely in
consultation and arrangement with Edwardes. It was terrible how rapidly
worse he seemed to grow directly the situation had declared itself, and
the determination _not_ to be ill had been perforce overthrown. But his
struggle against breathlessness and weakness, and all the other symptoms
of his state during these last days, was heroic. On the last day of all,
by his own persistent wish, a certain number of members of the
Brotherhood came to say good-bye to him. They came in one by one,
Macdonald first. The old Scotchman, from the height of his sixty years
of tough weather-beaten manhood, lo