lounge, and his warm
cloak. He wrapped the latter carefully about the drooping form, and would
have placed her head on the silken pillow; but she silently resisted
without looking up, and he left her. It was a vigil which she never forgot.

The fire had died out entirely, the curtains were drawn back to let in the
day; on the library table the startling glare of white linen showed the
outlines of the cold young sleeper, and Russell slowly paced the floor, his
arms crossed, as was their habit, and his powerful form unweariedly erect.
She stood by the table half-irresolute, then folded down the sheet, and
exposed the handsome, untroubled face. She studied it long and quietly, and
with no burst of emotion laid her flowers against his cheek and mouth, and
scattered the geraniums over his pulseless heart.

"I begged him not to start yesterday, and he answered that he would go, if
the stars fell and judgment day overtook him. Sometimes we are prophets
unawares. His star has set--his day has risen! Have mercy on his soul! oh,
my God!"

The voice was low and even, but wonderfully sweet, and in the solemn
morning light her face showed itself grey and bloodless; no stain of colour
on the still lips, only the blue cord standing out between the brow, sure
signs of a deep distress which found no vent. Russell felt a crushing
weight lifted from his heart; he saw that she had "loved her cousin
cousinly--no more"; and his face flushed when she looked across the table
at him, with grateful but indescribably melancholy eyes, which had never
been closed during that night of horror.

"I must now relieve you, Russell, from your friendly watch. Few would have
acted as you have done, and for all your generous kindness to poor Hugh I
thank you most earnestly as well for my father as myself. The day may come,
perhaps, when I shall be able to prove my gratitude, and the sincerity of
my friendship, which has never wavered since we were children together.
Until that day, farewell Russell; but believe that I rejoice to hear of
your successes."

She held out her hand, and as he took it in his, which trembled violently,
he felt, even then, that there was no quiver in the icy-white fingers, and
that his name rippled over her lips as calmly as that of the dead had done
just before. She endured his long, searching gaze, like any other Niobe,
and he dropped the little pearly hand and quitted the room. At ten o'clock
Mr. Huntingdon returned, and, wit