ppearance of the servant choked his voice for an instant,
but he succeeded in shaping an inquiry after Mr. Palmer's health.

'I'm sorry to say, sir,' was the reply, 'that Mr. Palmer died last
night. We received the news only an hour or two ago.'

Christian tottered on his feet and turned so pale that the servant
regarded him with anxiety. For a minute or two he stared vacantly into
the gloomy hall; then, without a word, he turned abruptly and walked
away.

Unconscious of the intervening distance, he found himself at home, in
his library. The parlour-maid was asking him whether he would have
luncheon. Scarcely understanding the question, he muttered a refusal
and sat down.

So, it had come at last. Constance was a widow. In a year or so she
might think of marrying again.

He remained in the library for three or four hours. At first incapable
of rejoicing, then ashamed to do so, he at length suffered from such a
throbbing of the heart that apprehension of illness recalled him to a
normal state of mind. The favourite decanter was within reach, and it
gave him the wonted support. Then at length did heart and brain glow
with exulting fervour.

Poor Constance! Noble woman! Most patient of martyrs! The hour of her
redemption had struck. The fetters had fallen from her tender,
suffering body. Of _him_ she could not yet think. He did not wish it.
The womanhood must pay its debt to nature before she could gladden in
the prospect of a new life. Months must go by before he could approach
her, or even remind her of his existence. But at last his reward was
sure.

And he had thought of Twybridge, of his cousin Janet! O unworthy lapse!

He shed tears of tenderness. Dear, noble Constance! It was now nearly
twelve years since he first looked upon her face. In those days he
mingled freely with all the society within his reach. It was not very
select, and Constance Markham shone to him like a divinity among
creatures of indifferent clay. They said she was coquettish, that she
played at the game of love with every presentable young man--envious
calumny! No, she was single-hearted, inexperienced, a lovely and joyous
girl of not yet twenty. It is so difficult for such a girl to
understand her own emotions. Her parents persuaded her into wedding
Palmer. That was all gone into the past, and now his concern--their
concern--was only with the blessed future.

At three o'clock he began to feel a healthy appetite. He sent for a cab
and