hall we go on?"

And they went on silently, one of them very white. "I believe you are
blaming me," her Ladyship said, making a face, just before they
overtook the others, "when you know it was your own fault for"--she
suddenly rippled--"for not waiting until it was too dark for me to see
you!"

They strolled with some others of the party to the flower-garden,
which was some distance from the house, and surrounded by a high wall
studded with iron spikes and glass. Lady Rintoul cut him some flowers
for Grizel, but he left them on a garden-seat--accidentally, everyone
thought afterwards in the drawing-room when they were missed; but he
had laid them down, because how could those degraded hands of his
carry flowers again to Grizel? There was great remorse in him, but
there was a shrieking vanity also, and though the one told him to be
gone, the other kept him lagging on. They had torn him a dozen times
from each other's arms before he was man enough to go.

It was gloaming when he set off, waving his hat to those who had come
to the door with him. Lady Pippinworth was not among them; he had not
seen her to bid her good-bye, nor wanted to, for the better side of
him had prevailed--so he thought. It was a man shame-stricken and
determined to kill the devil in him that went down that long
avenue--so he thought.

A tall, thin woman was standing some twenty yards off, among some
holly-trees. She kissed her hand mockingly to him, and beckoned and
laughed when he stood irresolute. He thought he heard her cry, "Too
stout!" He took some fierce steps towards her. She ran on, looking
over her shoulder, and he forgot all else and followed her. She darted
into the flower-garden, pulling the gate to after her. It was a gate
that locked when it closed, and the key was gone. Lady Pippinworth
clapped her hands because he could not reach her. When she saw that he
was climbing the wall she ran farther into the garden.

He climbed the wall, but, as he was descending, one of the iron spikes
on the top of it pierced his coat, which was buttoned to the throat,
and he hung there by the neck. He struggled as he choked, but he could
not help himself. He was unable to cry out. The collar of the old
doctor's coat held him fast.

They say that in such a moment a man reviews all his past life. I
don't know whether Tommy did that; but his last reflection before he
passed into unconsciousness was "Serves me right!" Perhaps it was only
a little bi