I was discharged from the hospital, and Rayel and I were driven
to our apartments. He had a number of surprises prepared for me. A large
painting on his easel, awaiting some finishing touches, compelled my
attention as soon as I entered the room. It represented a scene in
our own lives, which had lasted but a second, but which could never be
forgotten by either of us. He had seen me when I stood looking backward
in that vivid flash of lightning--there could be no doubt of it now,
for here was the scene transferred to canvas. The shaft of white light
shaking and darting across the black sky like a gleaming sword; the man
on the sidewalk looking backward with a startled glance; the big drops
of rain falling sidelong in the wind--these were all reproduced on the
canvas. His later pictures were characterized by a cynical tendency,
which I observed with regret. It was evident that his sensitive mind
had taken impressions from its brief contact with men, which were sadly
affecting his thought.

He showed me numerous letters, many of which were from women who desired
to visit his studio and see his work. Indeed, my cousin had apparently
grown suddenly famous in the American metropolis. He was the victim
rather than the victor of fame, however, and regarded the matter with
very serious concern. The press of New York had been full of gossip
concerning his "eccentricities" since the event which had put my life in
danger. One of the society journals had printed a highly colored
version of that little episode at the house of the Paddingtons, and had
concluded its article by saying that the fair Miss Paddington had fallen
madly in love with her father's strange guest.

That night, as we were sitting by the grate fire in our own rooms,
Rayel, encouraged by our seclusion, began to emerge from the silence to
which he had seemingly gone back for refuge in time of trouble.

"We shall soon be ready to start for England," I said.

"I do not wish to go to England, Kendric," said he. "For a long time
I have thought over it. Let me go back to the old house and live by my
father's grave, until the good Lord takes me to a better home. I would
miss you, dear Kendric, and every day I would look for you to come, but
I shall be happier there."

His words touched me deeply, and I was not prepared to answer him with
perfect calmness, although I had lately suspected that his despondency
would lead to this resolve.

"Why must we separate now, aft