he hushed and veiled house, in the frosty chill of the
late autumn just before dawn, shivering between grief and cold, and
he walked quickly down the avenue, feeling it strange that the
windows in the face of his own house were glittering back the
reflection of the setting moon.

Something long and black came from the opposite direction.
"Rector," it said, in a low hoarse voice, "I've got leave from him
to use what he said to you. Sister Margaret and I signed it. Will
that do?"

"I can't tell now, Herbert, I can't think. My brother is just
gone," said Julius in his inward voice.

"Raymond! No! Oh, I beg your pardon; I never thought of that;
Raymond--"

"Go home and go to bed," said Julius, as the young man wrung his
hand. "Rest now--we must think another time."

Did Rosamond know? was perhaps the foremost of his weary thoughts.
Ah! did she not! Was she not standing with her crimson shawl round
her, and the long black plaits falling on it, to beckon him to the
firelit comfort of his own room? Did she not fall on his neck as he
came heavily up, and cling around him with her warm arms? "Oh,
Julius, what a dear brother he was! What can we do for your
mother?"

As he told her how Frank's need did more than any support could do
for her, her tears came thicker; but in spite of them, her fond
hands put him into the easy-chair by the fire, and drew off his damp
boots; and while listening to the low sunken voice that told her of
the end, she made ready the cup of cocoa that was waiting, and put
the spoon in his hand in a caressing manner, that made her care,
comfort, not oppression. Fatigue seconded her, for he took the warm
food, faltered and leant back, dozing till the baby's voice awoke
him, and as he saw Rosamond hushing her, he exclaimed:

"O, Rose! if poor Raymond had ever known one hour like this!" and he
held out his arms for his child.

"You know I don't let you hold her in that coat. Go into your
dressing-room, have your bath, and put on your dressing-gown, and if
you will lie on the bed, you shall take care of her while I go and
feed Terry. You can't do anything for anybody yet, it is only six
o'clock."

These precautions, hindering his going jaded and exhausted into
infection, were what Rosamond seemed to live for, though she never
forced them on him, and he was far too physically tired out not to
yield to the soothing effect; so that even two hours on the bed sent
him forth renovated to tha