-he hesitated for an
instant--then signed his name in faint, trembling characters, at the end
of the letter.

She drew it away from him gently. A few tear-drops lay on the paper. As
she dried them with her handkerchief she looked at her brother.

"They are the last he shall ever shed, Louis; you and I will take care
of that!"

EPILOGUE TO THE THIRD STORY.

I have now related all that is eventful in the history of SISTER ROSE.
To the last the three friends dwelt together happily in the cottage
on the river bank. Mademoiselle Clairfait was fortunate enough to know
them, before Death entered the little household and took away, in the
fullness of time, the eldest of its members. She describes Lomaque,
in her quaint foreign English, as "a brave, big heart"; generous,
affectionate, and admirably free from the small obstinacies and
prejudices of old age, except on one point: he could never be induced
to take his coffee, of an evening, from any other hand than the hand of
Sister Rose.

I linger over these final particulars with a strange unwillingness to
separate myself from them, and give my mind to other thoughts. Perhaps
the persons and events that have occupied my attention for so many
nights past have some peculiar interest for me that I cannot analyze.
Perhaps the labor and time which this story has cost me have especially
endeared it to my sympathies, now that I have succeeded in completing
it. However that may be, I have need of some resolution to part at last
with Sister Rose, and return, in the interests of my next and Fourth
Story, to English ground.

I have experienced so much difficulty, let me add, in deciding on the
choice of a new narrative out of my collection, that my wife has lost
all patience, and has undertaken, on her own responsibility, to relieve
me of my unreasonable perplexities. By her advice--given, as usual,
without a moment's hesitation--I cannot do better than tell the story of

THE LADY OF GLENWITH GRANGE.

PROLOGUE TO THE FOURTH STORY.

My practice in the art of portrait-painting, if it has done nothing
else, has at least fitted me to turn my talents (such as they are) to
a great variety of uses. I have not only taken the likenesses of men,
women, and children, but have also extended the range of my brush, under
stress of circumstances, to horses, dogs, houses, and in one case even
to a bull--the terror and glory of his parish, and the most truculent
sitter I ever had. Th