the sound as much as we could, but it was impossible
to prevent Richard from hearing. He knew her voice, and it produced an
effect like fever on him. Whenever she called he answered. You could not
hear them without weeping. Mrs. Berry sat with her, and I sat with him,
and his father moved from one to the other.

"But the trial for us came when she was gone. How to communicate it to
Richard--or whether to do so at all! His father consulted with us. We
were quite decided that it would be madness to breathe it while he
was in that state. I can admit now--as things have turned out--we were
wrong. His father left us--I believe he spent the time in prayer--and
then leaning on me, he went to Richard, and said in so many words,
that his Lucy was no more. I thought it must kill him. He listened, and
smiled. I never saw a smile so sweet and so sad. He said he had seen her
die, as if he had passed through his suffering a long time ago. He
shut his eyes. I could see by the motion of his eyeballs up that he was
straining his sight to some inner heaven.--I cannot go on.

"I think Richard is safe. Had we postponed the tidings, till he came
to his clear senses, it must have killed him. His father was right
for once, then. But if he has saved his son's body, he has given the
death-blow to his heart. Richard will never be what he promised.

"A letter found on his clothes tells us the origin of the quarrel. I
have had an interview with Lord M. this morning. I cannot say I think
him exactly to blame: Richard forced him to fight. At least I do not
select him the foremost for blame. He was deeply and sincerely affected
by the calamity he has caused. Alas! he was only an instrument.
Your poor aunt is utterly prostrate and talks strange things of her
daughter's death. She is only happy in drudging. Dr. Bairam says we
must under any circumstances keep her employed. Whilst she is doing
something, she can chat freely, but the moment her hands are not
occupied she gives me an idea that she is going into a fit.

"We expect the dear child's uncle to-day. Mr. Thompson is here. I have
taken him upstairs to look at her. That poor young man has a true heart.

"Come at once. You will not be in time to see her. She will lie at
Raynham. If you could you would see an angel. He sits by her side for
hours. I can give you no description of her beauty.

"You will not delay, I know, dear Austin, and I want you, for your
presence will make me more charitabl