elow, glances at the finish.

A sigh of relief escapes her.

"Oh, I am glad she didn't! I am glad she is saved!" exclaims Mrs. Lane
involuntarily, rising, as she thinks, to meet Nelson, since this is his
hour to return.

Instead, Philip stands before her, white as a corpse. His haggard
features are accentuated by the mellow lamp light, his figure sways,
tottering till he steadies himself by grasping the back of a chair.

He has not tasted food that day, and she fancies he looks shrunken,
marvelling at his altered appearance.

She dares not ask him what has happened, but just gazes with wondering
sympathy into his miserable eyes.

"It has come," he gasps, passing one hand over his brow.

"What?" murmurs Erminie, under her breath.

"Eleanor and Quinton--they have gone together."

His voice vibrates through the room. A gasp of horror escapes Mrs.
Lane. She staggers back.

"What shall you do?" she asks.

"What will I do?" echoes Philip, his eyes flashing, and the colour
rushing back in a flood to his ashen cheeks. "Find her--track her to
the end of the earth. Everything in life has closed to me this day. I
shall only exist for one motive--one unswerving aim. She thinks she
has escaped me, but the world is small, and while Eleanor and I are
both in the same hemisphere----"

He pauses, for the room swims round.

A look that Erminie can never forget crosses his face--a look of
sublime love, checked by an expression of devilish rage and hatred.
The two seem battling a moment for pre-eminence.

Then he draws himself up to his full height, as if fighting for breath,
and falls heavily upon the floor at Erminie's feet. Nelson's voice is
heard calling her without.

She rushes to the door with a wild cry:

"Help--help! Philip is DEAD!"

[Illustration: She rushes to the door with a wild cry.]

CHAPTER XV.

AH, FOR SOME RETREAT,
DEEP IN YONDER SHINING ORIENT.--_Tennyson_.

"Have you ever heard anything more of that poor Mr. Roche, whose wife
deserted him?" asks Erminie's sister-in-law.

"No," replies Mrs. Lane sadly. "We had one awful night when he came
and told us the news, and fainted. I am so weak-minded, I thought he
was dead immediately, and shrieked and tore my hair, and made quite a
scene. I always jump at conclusions, it is so stupid of me. Nelson
had a bad time of it that night. We sent for a doctor, but it was ages
before we got him round, and then he seemed so strange and