nty-two!"
he hid himself from the sight over some business transactions with
Mrs. Poynsett and Miles.

Rosamond seized the opportunity of bringing Julius in to pay his
farewell visit, and presently Cecil said, "Julius, I should be much
obliged if you would tell me the real facts about this illness."

"Do," said Rosamond. "Her half knowledge is most wearing."

He gently told her what science had pronounced.

"Then it was Pettitt's well?" she said.

"They tell us that this was the immediate cause of the outbreak; but
there would probably have been quite as much fatal illness the first
time any infectious disease came in. The whole place was in a
shameful state, and you were the only people who tried to mitigate
it."

"And did worse harm, because we would not listen to advice," said
Cecil. "Julius, I have a great deal of money; can't I do anything
now? My father wants me to give a donation to the church as a
memorial of _him_, but, somehow, I don't feel as if I deserved to do
that."

"I see what you mean, Cecil, but the town is being rated to set the
drainage to rights, and it will thus be done in the most permanent
and effectual way. There are some orphans who might be saved from
the Union, about whom I thought of asking you to help."

Cecil asked the details of the orphans, and the consultation over
them seemed to be prolonged by her because, even now, she could not
resolve to go below the surface. It lasted until her father came to
ask whether she were ready to go with him to Mrs. Poynsett's
sitting-room. She looked very fragile and childish as she stood up,
clinging to his arm to help her wavering, uncertain step, holding
out her hand to Julius and saying, "I shall see you again."

He was a little disappointed to see her no older, and no warmer;
having gone thus far, it seemed as if she might have gone further
and opened more. Perhaps he did not understand how feelings,
naturally slow, were rendered slower by the languor of illness,
which made them more oppressive than acute. As Mr. Charnock and his
daughter knocked, the door was opened by Miles, who merely gave his
hand, and went down. Frank, who had been reading in a low easy-
chair by the fire, drew it close to his mother for her, and
retreated to another seat, and the mother and daughter-in-law
exchanged a grave kiss. Cecil attempted some civility about the
chair, to which poor Frank replied, "I'm afraid it is of no use to
speak to me, Cecil