rank off a cup of scalding tea, and watched
Rosamond, as if jealous of any delay over her cutlet. She did not
abuse his patience.

"Now then?" she said, rising. "You shall hear something of her
before long."

"Let me come to her door," entreated Archie.

And as the light shone from the window of the sick-room, Rosamond
said, "Stand under that tree in the moonlight, and I will make her
look out."

All was intensely quiet; Cranky fast asleep in the arm-chair in the
outer-room, and Jenny sitting by the bed, watching the smooth quiet
breath.

"You are to lie down on the sofa and sleep," said Rosamond, kissing
her, and she shook her head, "You must. People want strength for
joy as well as grief. Trust him to me, for there is some one for
you to see to-morrow."

"Not papa!" said Jenny, startled. "No, nor Phil! Tell me,
Rosamond. There is only one you could look at me like that for!"

"Look out at the window."

Trembling all over, Jenny went and put her face to the lattice. The
figure under the tree came nearer. Archie must have been able
clearly to see her face in the moonlight. He stretched up his arms
to her, then folded them together on his breast, and let himself be
led away by Julius, while Jenny slid down on her knees, with her
face buried, and the suppressed choking sobs made Herbert look up at
Rosamond, and whisper, "It is?"

"It is," repeated Rosamond, who had thought him asleep, or entirely
absorbed in the trouble of living.

"Go to her," he added.

Rosamond put her arm round her, and supported her into the next
room; for, after the month of hopeless watching, the long
sleeplessness and the struggle of this silent day to force her
spirit to the forgiveness she had promised, and then the sudden
reaction, had overpowered her, and the suppression and silence were
beyond endurance. She did not even know that Herbert was awake when
Rosamond brought her out into Mrs. Hornblower's room, and said,
"Have it out now, my dear, no one will hear. Scream comfortably.
It will do you good."

But Jenny could not even scream. She was in the excited agony when
the mind is far too much for the body, and joy, unrealized, is like
grief. If her brother had that day passed away, and if nothing had
been heard of her lover, she would have been all calmness and
resignation; but the revulsion had overcome her, and at the moment
she was more conscious of strangulation than of anything else.
Rosamond tended her f