ardoned my fierce rage
against you, which I trust is forgiven above. It has been repented!'

As he spoke there was a knock at the door, and, with the instinctive
dread of being found in his present posture, Philip sprang to his feet.
Amabel went to the door, and was told that the physician was down-stairs
with two gentlemen; and a card was given her, on which she read the name
of an English clergyman.

'There, again!' said Guy. 'Everything comes to me. Now it is all quite
right.'

Amabel was to go and speak to them, and Guy would see Mr. Morris, the
clergyman, as soon as the physician had made his visit. 'You must not go
down,' he then said to Philip. 'You will wait in the sitting-room, won't
you? We shall want you again, you know,' and his calm brightness was a
contrast to Philip's troubled look. 'All is clear between us now,' he
added, as Philip turned away.

Long ago, letters had been written to Venice, begging that if an English
clergyman should travel that way he might be told how earnestly his
presence was requested; this was the first who had answered the summons.
He was a very young man, much out of health, and travelling under the
care of a brother, who was in great dread of his doing anything
to injure himself. Amabel soon perceived that, though kind and
right-minded, he could not help them, except as far as his office was
concerned. He was very shy, only just in priest's orders; he told her he
had never had this office to perform before, and seemed almost to expect
her to direct him; while his brother was so afraid of his over-exerting
himself, that she could not hope he would take charge of Philip.

However, after the physician had seen Guy, she brought Mr. Morris to
him, and came forward, or remained in her room, according as she was
wanted. She thought her husband's face was at each moment acquiring more
unearthly beauty, and feeling with him, she was raised above thought or
sensation of personal sorrow.

When the first part of the service was over, and she exchanged a few
words, out of Guy's hearing, with Mr. Morris, he said to her, as from
the very fullness of his heart, 'One longs to humble oneself to him. How
it puts one to shame to hear such repentance with such a confession!'

The time came when Philip was wanted. Amabel had called in Anne and the
clergyman's brother, and went to fetch her cousin. He was where she had
left him in the sitting-room, his face hidden in his arms, crossed on
the t