ther to tell," he said.

Then she dropped his hands and walked away from him to the
window,--and stood there looking out upon the stuccoed turret of
a huge house that stood opposite. As she did so she was employing
herself in counting the windows. Her mind was paralysed by the blow,
and she knew not how to make any exertion with it for any purpose.
Everything was changed with her,--and was changed in such a way
that she could make no guess as to her future mode of life. She was
suddenly a widow, a pauper, and utterly desolate,--while the only
person in the whole world that she really liked was standing close to
her. But in the midst of it all she counted the windows of the house
opposite. Had it been possible for her she would have put her mind
altogether to sleep.

He let her stand for a few minutes and then joined her at the window.
"My friend," he said, "what shall I do for you?"

"Do?" she said. "What do you mean by--doing?"

"Come and sit down and let me talk to you," he replied. Then he led
her to the sofa, and as she seated herself I doubt whether she had
not almost forgotten that her husband was dead.

"What a pity it was to cut it up," she said, pointing to the rags of
Jael and Sisera.

"Never mind the picture now. Dreadful as it is, you must allow
yourself to think of him for a few minutes."

"Think of what! Oh, God! yes. Conway, you must tell me what to do.
Was everything gone? It isn't about myself. I don't mind about
myself. I wish it was me instead of him. I do. I do."

"No wishing is of any avail."

"But, Conway, how did it happen? Do you think it is true? That man
would say anything to gain his object. Is he here now?"

"I believe he is here still."

"I won't see him. Remember that. Nothing on earth can make me see
him."

"It may be necessary, but I do not think it will be;--at any rate,
not yet."

"I will never see him. I believe that he has murdered my husband. I
do. I feel sure of it. Now I think of it I am quite sure of it. And
he will murder you too;--about that girl. He will. I tell you I know
the man." Dalrymple simply shook his head, smiling sadly. "Very well!
you will see. But, Conway, how do you know that it is true? Do you
believe it yourself?"

"I do believe it."

"And how did it happen?"

"He could not bear the ruin that he had brought upon himself and
you."

"Then;--then--" She went no further in her speech; but Dalrymple
assented by a slight motion of his head, and