--you are much better than you were. I do not see why
you should die!" wept Hannah.

"But I do; I am not better, Hannah--I have only floated back. I am
always floating backward and forward, towards life and towards death;
only every time I float towards death I go farther away, and I shall
float out with the day."

Hannah was too much moved to trust herself to speak.

"Sister," said Nora, in a fainter voice, "I have one last wish."

"What is it, my own darling?"

"To see poor, poor Herman once more before I die."

"To forgive him! Yes, I suppose that will be right, though very hard,"
sighed the elder girl.

"No, not to forgive him, Hannah--for he has never willingly injured me,
poor boy; but to lay my hand upon his head, and look into his eyes, and
assure him with my dying breath that I know he was not to blame; for I
do know it, Hannah."

"Oh, Nora, what faith!" cried the sister.

The dying girl, who, to use her own words, was floating away again,
scarcely heard this exclamation, for she murmured on in a lower tone,
like the receding voice of the wind:

"For if I do not have a chance of saying this to him, Hannah--if he is
left to suppose I went down to the grave believing him to be
treacherous--it will utterly break his heart, Hannah; for I know him,
poor fellow---he is as sensitive as--as--any--." She was gone again
out of reach.

Hannah watched the change that slowly grew over her beautiful face: saw
the grayness of death creep over it--saw its muscles stiffen into
stone--saw the lovely eyeballs roll upward out of sight--and the sweet
lips drawn away from the glistening teeth.

While she thus watched she heard a sound behind her. She turned in time
to see the door pushed open, and Herman Brudenell--pale, wild, haggard,
with matted hair, and blood-shot eyes, and shuddering frame--totter into
the room.

CHAPTER XII.

HERMAN'S STORY.

Thus lived--thus died she; never more on her
Shall sorrow light or shame. She was not made,
Through years of moons, the inner weight to bear,
Which colder hearts endure 'til they are laid
By age in earth: her days and pleasures were
Brief but delightful--such as had not stayed
Long with her destiny; but she sleeps well
By the sea-shore, whereon she loved to dwell.

--_Byron_.

Hannah arose, met the intruder, took his hand, led him to the bed of
death and silently pointed to the ghastly form of Nora.

He gazed with horror on the sunk