ame; perhaps a trifle more conscious and weaker;
that is all."

"And there is no hope?"

"None; all the doctors agree in saying that. His health has been
breaking for years, and the sudden shock was too much for him. No; it
is no use deceiving ourselves; no change can happen but the worst."

"Poor Mrs. Trafford."

"Ah, you would say so if you could see her; Percy's death has utterly
broken her down; but she is very brave, and will not spare herself. We
think Uncle Rolf knows her, and likes to have her near him; he always
seems restless and uneasy if she leaves the room. But indeed the
difficulty is to induce her to take needful rest."

"You are looking ill yourself, dear Erle," she returned, tenderly; but
at that moment Lady Maltravers re-entered, and Erle looked at his
watch.

"I must go now," he said, hastily; and though Evelyn followed him out
into the corridor there were no fond lingering words. "Good-bye, Eva;
take care of yourself," he said, kissing her; and then he went away,
and Evelyn went back into the room with a heavy heart. He had been
very kind, but he had not once said that he was glad to see her back;
and again she told herself that something had come between them.

But there was no opportunity for coming to any understanding, for the
shadows were closing round Belgrave House, and the Angel of Death was
standing before the threshold.

Ah! the end was drawing near now. Mr. Huntingdon was dying.

He had never recovered consciousness, or seemed to recognize the faces
round him; not even his favorite Erle, or the daughter who fed and
soothed him like an infant; and yet in a dim sort of way he seemed
conscious of her presence. He would wail after her if she left him,
and his withered hands would grope upon the coverlet in a feeble,
restless way, but never once did he articulate her name.

He was dying fast, they told Erle, when he had returned home that
night; and he had gone up at once to the sickroom and had not left it
again.

Mrs. Trafford was sitting by the bed as usual. She was rubbing the
cold wrinkled hands, and speaking to him in a low voice; she turned
her white, haggard face to Erle as he entered, and motioned him to be
quiet, and then again her eyes were fixed on the face of the dying
man. Oh! if he would only speak to her one word, if she could only
make him understand that she forgave him now!

"I have sinned," he had said to her, "but in the presence of the dead
there should be