ouisa and
loved him, respected her wishes too much to chatter. Which is saying a
good deal, isn't it? For it takes a good bit to stay a gossip's
tongue. But her will was law in the place, and I never heard of any
one attempting to dispute it. I know she suffered agonies of mind, but
I never knew her break down until just at the last, when she was dying.
She kept death at bay by sheer strength of will for weeks, simply
because she couldn't bear to leave him. He was her only son--her only
child. And her last words were, 'Let him come soon, O God; let him
come soon.' Go and look at her grave and read the inscription she
wrote out herself for it. Poor Lady Louisa! and poor Francis!"

"Did you know my father?" asked the girl after a while.

"Yes; I knew him, but not so well as I knew your aunt. I was a good
deal away after my boyhood, and my holidays later on did not always
coincide with his visits here, but I met him several times."

"He never spoke to me of his sister."

"That I can understand. It is only what I should have expected. I
happened to see your father, Miss Harford, as he left this house when
he came here after the accident. He had seen his sister, he had failed
in his efforts to persuade her, all his arguments had been of no avail,
and his distress was beyond all words. He had loved Francis
Heathcote--he was his most intimate friend--and he had adored his
sister. Up to that time I think he had firmly believed that she could
do no wrong. And then, to find that under stress of trouble she had
failed so grievously nearly broke his heart. And yet"--the doctor
spoke slowly and thoughtfully--"yet--I think still as I thought then,
and as I told him that day, that she should not be too greatly blamed."

"But of course she was to blame," cried Philippa hotly. "Her behaviour
was inhuman."

"So it seems to us," he replied. "But we must remember what she was--a
spoilt child--a butterfly. Your father himself spoilt her absolutely.
She had never been crossed--had never known a moment's anxiety--never
even been obliged to do anything she did not like--to do anything
except please herself. She was beautiful--most beautiful; and if she
was shallow, well, then the very shallowness only made her more
attractive. She fascinated us all." The man's voice took on a softer
tone as he spoke. "Francis loved her--madly--passionately. His
overwhelming joy in their betrothal was a thing never to be forgotten