ve
at Haggart, near the child's grave. She told me that according to every
doctor she has seen she is doomed, physically. But I don't think she
wants to work upon your pity. She herself declares that she has much
more vitality than people think, and that the doctors may be all wrong.
So that you are not to take that into account. But if you will so far
forgive her as to let her live at Haggart, and occasionally to go and
see her, that would be the only happiness to which she could now look
forward, and she promises that she will follow your wishes in every
respect, and will not hinder or persecute you in any way."

Ashe threw up his hands in a melancholy gesture. The Dean understood it
to mean a disbelief in the ability of the person promising to keep such
an engagement. His face flushed--he looked uncertainly at Ashe.

"For my part," he said, quickly, "I am not going to advise you for a
moment to trust to any such promise."

Rising from his seat, Ashe began to pace the room. The Dean followed him
with his eyes, which kindled more and more.

"But," he resumed, "I none the less urge and implore you to grant Lady
Kitty's prayer."

Ashe slightly shook his head. The little Dean drew himself together.

"May I speak to you--with a full frankness? I have known and loved you
from a boy. And"--he stopped a moment, then said, simply--"I am a
Christian minister."

Ashe, with a sad and charming courtesy, laid his hand on the old man's
arm.

"I can only be grateful to you," he said, and stood waiting.

"At least you will understand me," said the Dean. "You are not one of
the small souls. Well--here it is! Lady Kitty has been an unfaithful
wife. She does not attempt to deny or cover it. But in my belief she
loves you still, and has always loved you. And when you married her, you
must, I think, have realized that you were running no ordinary risks.
The position and antecedents of her mother--the bringing up of the poor
child herself--the wildness of her temperament, and the absence of
anything like self-discipline and self-control, must surely have made
you anxious? I certainly remember that Lady Tranmore was full of fears."

He looked for a reply.

"Yes," said Ashe, "I was anxious. Or, rather, I saw the risks clearly.
But I was in love, and I thought that love could do everything."

The Dean looked at him curiously--hesitated--and at last said:

"Forgive me. Did you take your task seriously enough?--did you give Lady