the
letters that are pouring in upon him from all parts are extraordinary.
They show an amount and degree of interest in ideas of the kind which
are surprising to a Laodicean like me. But he is not surprised--says
he always expected it--and that there are thousands who only want a
rallying-point.

'His personal effect, the love that is felt for him, the passion and
energy of the nature--never has our generation seen anything to equal
it. As you perceive, I am reduced to taking it all seriously, and don't
know what to make of him or myself.

'_She_, poor soul! is now always with him, comes down with him day after
day, and works away. She no more believes in his ideas, I think, than
she ever did; but all her antagonism is gone. In the midst of the stir
about him her face often haunts me. It has changed lately; she is no
longer a young woman, but so refined, so spiritual!

'But he is ailing and fragile. _There_ is the one cloud on a scene that
fills me with increasing wonder and reverence.

CHAPTER L.

One cold Sunday afternoon, in January, Flaxman, descending the steps
of the New Brotherhood, was overtaken by a Dr. Edmondson, an able young
physician, just set up for himself as a consultant, who had only lately
attached himself to Elsmere, and was now helping him with eagerness to
organize a dispensary. Young Edmondson and Flaxman exchanged a few words
on Elsmere's lecture, and then the doctor said abruptly,--

'I don't like his looks nor his voice. How long has he been hoarse like
that?'

'More or less for the last month. He is very much worried by it himself,
and talks of clergyman's throat. He had a touch of it, it appears, once
in the country.'

'Clergyman's throat?' Edmondson shook his bead dubiously. 'It may be. I
wish he would let me overhaul him.'

'I wish he would!' said Flaxman devoutly. 'I will see what I can do. I
will get hold of Mrs. Elsmere.'

Meanwhile Robert and Catherine had driven home together. And as they
entered the study, she caught his hands, a suppressed and exquisite
passion gleaming in her face.

'You did not explain Him! You never will!'

He stood, held by her, his gaze meeting hers. Then in an instant his
faced changed, blanched before her--he seemed to gasp for breath--she
was only just able to save him from falling. It was apparently another
swoon of exhaustion. As she knelt beside him on the floor, having done
for him all she could, watching his return to consciousness,