sing her husband. Although not in the least marked or
disfigured, the attack must have seriously impaired her constitution,
if all that Robert tells me be true. Since her return, one month ago,
she has not left her room."

"Dr. Grey, exert your influence in my behalf, and prevail upon her to
admit me."

"Miss Dexter, you ascribe to me powers of persuasion which,
unfortunately, I do not possess; and Mrs. Carlyle's decree is
beyond the reach of human agency. To the few who are earnestly
interested in her welfare, there remains but one avenue of aid and
comfort,--faithful, fervent prayer."

"Perhaps you are not aware of the exalted estimate she places on your
character, nor of the value she attaches to your opinions. Of all
living beings, she told me she reverenced and trusted you most; and
you, at least, would not be denied access to her presence."

She could not see the tremor on his usually firm lips, nor the pallor
that overspread his face, and when he spoke his grave voice did not
betray the tumult in his aching heart.

"I am no longer a visitor at 'Solitude,' and shall not see its
mistress unless she requires my professional aid. While I am very
deeply interested in her happiness, I could never consent to intrude
upon her seclusion."

"I know my days are numbered, and after a little while I shall sleep
well under the ancient cedars that shade the head-stones of my father
and mother; but I could die more cheerfully, more joyfully, if Evelyn
would only be comforted, and accept some human friendship."

"For some weeks you have seemed so much better that I hoped warm
weather would quite relieve and invigorate you. Spend next winter in
Cuba or Mexico, and it will probably add many months, possibly years,
to your life."

She smiled, and shook her head.

"This beautiful springtime has temporarily baffled the disease, but
for me there can be no restoration. Day by day I feel the ebbing of
strength and energy, and the approach of my deliverer, death; but I
realize also, what the Centaur uttered to Melampus, 'I decline unto my
last days calm as the setting of the constellations; but I feel
myself perishing and passing quickly away, like a snow-wreath floating
on the stream.'"

As he looked at the thin, pure face where May sunshine streamed warm
and bright, and marked the perfect peace that brooded over the changed
features, Dr. Grey was reminded of the lines that might have been
written for her, so fully were the