lts were serious. A bronchial attack followed. In a week
more, the dearest and best of women had left us nothing to love but the
memory of the dead.

"Her last words were faintly whispered to me in her husband's presence:
'Take care of him,' the dying woman said, 'when I am gone.'

"No effort of mine to be worthy of that sacred trust was left untried.
How could I hope to succeed where _she_ had failed? My house in London
and my house in the country were both open to Beaucourt; I entreated him
to live with me, or (if he preferred it) to be my guest for a short time
only, or (if he wished to be alone) to choose the place of abode which
he liked best for his solitary retreat. With sincere expressions of
gratitude, his inflexible despair refused my proposals.

"In one of the ancient 'Inns,' built centuries since for the legal
societies of London, he secluded himself from friends and acquaintances
alike. One by one, they were driven from his dreary chambers by a
reception which admitted them with patient resignation and held out
little encouragement to return. After an interval of no great length, I
was the last of his friends who intruded on his solitude.

"Poor Lady Howel's will (excepting some special legacies) had left her
fortune to me in trust, on certain conditions with which it is needless
to trouble you. Beaucourt's resolution not to touch a farthing of his
dead wife's money laid a heavy responsibility on my shoulders; the
burden being ere long increased by forebodings which alarmed me on the
subject of his health.

"He devoted himself to the reading of old books, treating (as I was
told) of that branch of useless knowledge generally described as 'occult
science.' These unwholesome studies so absorbed him, that he remained
shut up in his badly ventilated chambers for weeks together, without
once breathing the outer air even for a few minutes. Such defiance of
the ordinary laws of nature as this could end but in one way; his health
steadily declined and feverish symptoms showed themselves. The doctor
said plainly, 'There is no chance for him if he stays in this place.'

"Once more he refused to be removed to my London house. The development
of the fever, he reminded me, might lead to consequences dangerous to me
and to my household. He had heard of one of the great London hospitals,
which reserved certain rooms for the occupation of persons capable of
paying for the medical care bestowed on them. If he were to b