excuse to get her from the room.

"I don't care for it," he wearily answered.

"I am sure you are tired," said Lucy. "When did you dine?"

"I have not dined. I have taken nothing since I left home this
morning."

"Oh!" She was hastening to the bell. Lionel stopped her, laying his hand
upon her arm.

"I could not eat it, Lucy. Just one cup of tea, if you will."

She, returned to the table, poured out the cup of tea, and he drank it
standing.

"Shall I take Mrs. Verner up a cup?" asked Lucy. "Will she drink it, do
you think?"

"Thank you, Lucy. It may do her head good. I think it aches much
to-night."

He turned, and departed. Lucy noticed that he had left the parchment
behind him, and ran after him with it, catching him as he was about to
close the hall door. She knew that all such business-looking papers went
up to Verner's Pride.

"Did you mean to leave it? Or have you forgotten it?"

He had forgotten it. He took it from her, retaining her hand for a
moment. "Lucy, _you_ will not misjudge me?" he said, in a strange tone
of pain.

Lucy looked up at him with a bright smile and a very emphatic shake of
the head. She knew by instinct that he alluded to the accusation of his
wife, touching Rachel Frost. Lucy misjudge _him!_

"You should have waited to eat some dinner," she gaily said. "Take care
you don't faint by the way, as that sick patient of Jan's did the other
morning."

Lionel went on. At any rate there was peace outside, if not within; the
peace of outward calm. He lifted his hat; he bared his brow, aching with
its weight of trouble, to the clear night air; he wondered whether he
should have this to bear his whole life long. At the moment of passing
the outer gates, the carriage of Sir Rufus Hautley drew up, bearing
Decima.

Lionel waited to receive her. He helped her out, and gave her his arm to
the hall door. Decima walked with her head down.

"You are silent, Decima. Are you sad?"

"Yes," she answered. "Sir Rufus is dead."

"Dead!" echoed Lionel, in very astonishment, for he had heard nothing of
the sudden illness.

"It is so," she replied, breaking into sobs. "Spasms at the heart, they
say. Jan and Dr. Hayes were there, but they could not save him."

CHAPTER LXXVI.

AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL.

Deborah and Amilly West were sitting over the fire In the growing dusk
of a February evening. Their sewing lay on the table; some home dresses
they were making for themselves, for they h