aze was fixed on the distant sea, that lay
like a beryl mirror beneath the hazy sky.

When the sound of the sweet but strained voice had died away, Mrs.
Gerome turned her eyes towards the governess, and answered,--

"I will do my duty, no matter how revolting."

"Thank God! When will you go?"

"If at all, at once."

"Evelyn, when you come home, will you not let me see you, now and
then, and win my way back to my old place in your dear heart? Oh! my
pale, peerless darling, do not deny me this."

"Home? I have no home. My heart is grayer than my head,--and your old
niche is full of dust, and skeletons, and murdered hopes. Let me see
you no more in this world; and perhaps in the Everlasting Rest I shall
forget my hideous past, which your face recalls."

"Oh, my poor bruised darling! do not banish me," wailed the governess,
endeavoring to fold her arms about the queenly form, which silently
but effectually held her back.

"At least, dear Evelyn, let me kiss you once more, in token that you
cherish no bitterness against me."

"Good-by, Edith. I hold you innocent of my injuries. May God help you,
and call us both speedily to our dreamless sleep under moss and
marble."

She bent down, and with firm, icy lips, lightly touched the forehead
of the governess, and walked away, unheeding the burst of tears with
which the frigid caress was welcomed.

"And I think, in the lives of most women and men,
There's a moment when all would go smooth and even,
If only the dead could find out when
To come back, and be forgiven."

CHAPTER XXXI.

"Madam, are you aware that you breathe an infected atmosphere?--that
this building is assigned to small-pox cases? Pray do not cross the
threshold."

The superintendent of the hospital laid aside his pipe, and
advanced to meet the stranger whose knock had startled him from a
_post-prandial_ doze.

"I am not afraid of contagion, and came to see the patient who was
brought here yesterday from No. 139 Elm Street."

"Have you a permit to visit here?"

"Yes; you will find it on this paper, given me by the proper
authorities."

"What is the name of the person you desire to see?"

The superintendent opened a book that lay on the table beside him, and
drew his finger up and down the page.

"Maurice Carlyle."

"Ah, yes,--I have it now. Maurice Carlyle, Ward 3,--cot No. 7. Madam,
may I ask,--"

"No, sir; I have no inclination to answer idle questions. Will you
s