struggles of life. He could have
cursed himself--and yet--yet he loved her!

Kneeling, he put his arm softly over her. Another moment and he would
have yielded to the frantic impulse, and snatched her to his heart for
one--just one embrace--heedless of her waking. But how would she wake?
only to hate and reproach him. He had better leave her thus, and carry
away in his remembrance that picture of peace, which blotted out all
her bitter words, all her cruel want of love--made him forget everything
except that she had been the wife of his bosom and his first love.

He drew back his arm, gradually and noiselessly. He did not attempt to
kiss her, not even her hand, lest he should disturb her; but kneeling,
laid his hand on the pillow by hers, and pressed his lips to her hair.

"I am glad she sleeps--yes, very glad! She is quite content now, she
will be quite happy when I am gone, God love thee and take care of
thee--my darling--my Agatha."

[Illustration: A husband's farewell p280]

Kissing her hair once again, he rose up and went away.

As he departed, the first sunbeam came in and danced upon the bed,
showing Agatha fast asleep, sleeping still. She never woke until it had
been broad day for a long time, and the sun creeping over her pillow
struck her eyes.

Then she started up with a loud cry--she had been dreaming. Tears were
wet upon her cheek. She called wildly for her husband. It was too late.

He had been gone at least three hours.

CHAPTER XXI

"Mrs. Harper--Missus--there's a carriage at the door."

"Say I am not at home."

She had given the same sullen answer to every visitor for four weeks,
shutting herself up in stern seclusion, determined that, whatever cruel
comments they made, the neighbourhood should have no power of spying
into the mystery of "that poor Mrs. Locke Harper who did not live happy
with her husband." For so she felt sure had been the result of that
fatal betrayal to her brother-in-law. Since, as Harrie had once said,
"Duke never could keep a secret in his life!" But even his own wife
could not thoroughly fathom the good heart of Marmaduke Dugdale.

"Not at home?" repeated Dorcas, who had been very faithful to her young
mistress. "Not when it's Miss Valery, who has been so ill? Oh, Missus,
do'ee see Miss Valery."

Mrs. Harper hesitated, and during that time her visitor entered
uninvited.

"So, Agatha, as you did not come to see me, I have come at last to see
you."

"I a