reached him. Only within the last few days she had tasted the true sweetness of married life, as it lies in confidence and mutual forbearance, and now the cup was to be dashed from her lips. A train of painful recollections rose up before her with overpowering force, and she felt that she only was to blame for having so misused the happiness which had seemed to lie in their power. "Dear Kathleen, is he indeed so ill?" said Edward Lisle, as he entered the ante-room. "They say so," gasped Kathleen, raising her tearstained face, "and that I ought not to go to him. But you can go, Edward, and tell me how he really is. Oh, Agnes, have you come, too, when you must be so unfit for it?" But Agnes had forgotten herself, and her own sorrows. She took her sister's hand, and kissed her flushed cheek, and spoke gentle words of hope, which were confirmed by Edward. Lord De Cressy was, he said, perfectly conscious, and even able to speak, although the exertion was sufficiently painful to make him sparing of the same in Mrs. Emory's behalf. "And he says," Edward added, "that, while duly sensible of Dr. Astor's consideration for his nerves, his comfort would be more consulted by having you for his nurse than any other person." Kathleen's eyes glistened, and she repaired to her husband's room with a step which was almost buoyant, for, with the sense of helplessness, her most grievous trial was removed. He extended his hand with a pleased smile, and spoke, although with evident pain. “It is very good of Agnes and Edward to have come, for your sake especially." Throughout that day and the following night there was cause for anxiety, but towards morning the fever subsided, and he awoke, after some hours' refreshing sleep, so confident that he was convalescent, that the doctor's opinion was scarcely needed to confirm the assertion. The Lisles had not left the house, and Kathleen went to inform Agnes of the good news, imparting it with something like a pang, from the contrast between her own happiness and her sister's desolation. "I am glad, dearest," Agnes said with a tremulous smile. "Shall I tell you one reason among many? It grieved me so much to think that Walter's memory might be associated with your loss, but as it is, it has only led to your more perfect union." "There can be no more misunderstanding," said Kathleen, after a few moments' tearful silence. "I cannot tell you, Agnes, how tender and considerate he is. One of the first things he said this morning was, that I must not let you go back to your desolate home. He wishes me to send for the children at once." "It may be better for Edward; at least for a time," said Agnes. "And it will be a relief to me, to know that you will be at hand, to share the charge of the little ones when I am gone." She spoke so quietly that Kathleen did not at first catch her meaning. But when she looked again at her sister's drooping form, her colourless cheek, and wasted hands, she said, in the quick tone of alarm, "You are not ill, Agnes?" "Not exactly ill, dear; but I think that I am growing weaker. I have not spoken to Edward, as I do not believe that doctors can do me any good." She spoke truly, for what earthly physician may heal a broken heart? Softly, silently the work of decay went on, and soon all who looked on Agnes Lisle knew that she was "passing away." Even her husband's grief was hushed in stern silence: be the loss to him what it might, to her it would be only gain; since it was plain that nothing remained for her on this side the grave but patient looking for her eternal rest. Within a brief space, another and a larger grave was opened beside that of Walter, and the same stone and the same verse mark the resting-place of the mother and her child: "Now we see through a glass darkly: but then face to face." Some months afterwards the offer of employment in the colonies was renewed in a different spirit; and this time it was not refused by Edward Lisle. He has left his children to make their home with the De Cressys, until he has earned an independence, and recruited his broken spirits. Childless themselves, these little ones are cherished by Kathleen and her husband with especial and increasing love. Even Lady Harriet has ceased to say "that it will never do;" and she spoils the baby more than Aunt Kathleen thinks at all advisable. Mr. De Cressy, however, has publicly announced the necessity of discontinuing his visits to Carlton Gardens, now that there is a rocking-horse on the landing-place, and children, "not even their own," littering about the De Cressy. 20 countenance. the drawing-room; but Lord and Lady De Cressy appear to submit with equanimity to this withdrawal of his At least, it is certain that Kathleen is far happier than when, in her bridal days, Mr. De Cressy honoured them by his visit to Holdinghame; and her husband is seldom seen to raise his eyebrows, and compress his lips, after a fashion very habitual to him, at a time when his intercourse with his uncle was more frequent. THE END. ال |