ared her for the worst, after the time when I had told her
that she was an adopted child. "I know," I said, "that those whispered
temptations overpowered you again, when you and Helena met on the
stairs, and you forbade her to enter Philip's room. And I know that love
had conquered once more, when you were next seen sitting by Philip's
bedside. Tell me--have you any misgivings now? Is there fear in your
heart of the return of that tempting spirit in you, in the time to
come?"

"Not while Philip lives!"

There, where her love was--there her safety was. And she knew it! She
suddenly left me. I asked where she was going.

"To tell Philip," was the reply.

She was waiting for me at the door, when I followed her to the house.

"Is it done?" I said.

"It is done," she answered.

"What did he say?"

"He said: 'My darling, if I could be fonder of you than ever, I should
be fonder of you now.'"

I have been blamed for being too ready to confide to Philip the precious
trust of Eunice's happiness. If that reply does not justify me, where is
justification to be found?

POSTSCRIPT.

Later in the day, Mrs. Tenbruggen arrived to offer her congratulations.
She asked for a few minutes with Philip alone. As a cat elaborates
her preparations for killing a mouse, so the human cat elaborated her
preparations for killing Philip's happiness, he remained uninjured
by her teeth and her claws. "Somebody," she said, "has told you of it
already?" And Philip answered: "Yes; my wife."

For some months longer, Mr. Gracedieu lingered. One morning, he said to
Eunice: "I want to teach you to knit. Sit by me, and see me do it."
His hands fell softly on his lap; his head sank little by little on
her shoulder. She could just hear him whisper: "How pleasant it is to
sleep!" Never was Death's dreadful work more gently done.

Our married pair live now on the paternal estate in Ireland; and Miss
Jillgall reigns queen of domestic affairs. I am still strong enough to
pass my autumn holidays in that pleasant house.

At times, my memory reverts to Helena Gracedieu, and to what I
discovered when I had seen her diary.

How little I knew of that terrible creature when I first met with her,
and fancied that she had inherited her mother's character! It was weak
indeed to compare the mean vices of Mrs. Gracedieu with the diabolical
depravity of her daughter. Here the doctrine of hereditary transmission
of moral qualities must own that it has ov