allor of his cheek. "Oh sir, this is
Christian charity; and I beg your pardon for all that I may have
meditated against you. It was done for the child," he went on wildly;
"to get him the bread and butter he often lacked. I didn't care so much
for myself. I hated to see him hungry and cold and ailing; I might have
worked, but I detest work, and--But no matter about all that; enough
that I am done with endeavoring to extort money from you. Whatever may
have happened in the past, you are free from my persecutions in the
future. Henceforth you and yours can rest in peace."

"That is well," cried a voice over his shoulder, and Bertram with an air
of relief stepped hastily forward. "You must be very tired," remarked
he, turning to his uncle. "If you will take charge of Paula, I will do
what I can to see that this injured woman and the dead child are
properly cared for. I am so relieved, sir, at this result," he
whispered, with a furtive wring of his uncle's hand, "that I must
express my joy in some way."

Mr. Sylvester smiled, but in a manner that reflected but little of the
other's satisfaction. "Thank you," said he, "I am tired and will gladly
delegate my duties to you. I trust you to do the most you can for both
the living and the dead. That woman for all her seeming poverty is the
possessor of a large fortune;" he whispered; "let her be treated as
such." And with a final word to Holt who had sunk back against the wall
in his old attitude of silent despair, Mr. Sylvester took Paula upon his
arm, and quietly led her out of this humble but not unkind refuge.

XLIII.

DETERMINATION.

"But alas! to make me
A fixed figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at!"

--OTHELLO.

"Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares."

--HENRY V.

"Paula!"

They had reached home and were standing in the library.

"Yes," said she, lowering her head before his gaze with a sweet and
conscious blush.

"Did you read the letter I left for you in my desk up stairs?"

She put her hand to her bosom and drew forth the closely written sheet.
"Every word," she responded, and smilingly returned it to its place.

He started and his chest heaved passionately. "You have read it," he
cried, "and yet could follow me into that den of unknown dangers at an
hour like this, and with no other guide than Bertram?"

"Yes," she answered.

He drew a deep breath and his brow lost