ch-like complexion.

Going up, with impulsive grace, to Lord Sartoris, she lays both her
ungloved hands upon his shoulders, and presses her lips with tender
sympathy to his cheek.

"How sad it all is!" she says, with a little break in her voice. "How
can I tell you all I feel for you? If you had only had the faintest
warning! But it was all so sudden, so dreadful."

"What a kind child you are, Cissy!" says Sartoris, gently; "and to
come to us _so soon_, that was so good of you."

"Was it?" says Clarissa, quickly. "That is what has been troubling me.
We only heard the terrible news this morning, and papa said it would
be intrusive to call so early; but I--I could not keep away."

"Your presence in this gloomy house is an undeniable comfort," says
Sartoris, sadly. "I am glad you understood us well enough to know
that. It is my greatest wish that you should regard us all with
affection."

He glances from her to Dorian, as he speaks, with anxious meaning. But
Dorian's gaze is fixed thoughtfully upon the stained-glass window that
is flinging its crimson and purple rays upon the opposite wall, and
has obviously been deaf to all that has been passing. As for Clarissa,
she has turned, and is looking into Horace's dark eyes.

Sartoris, catching the glance, drops Miss Peyton's hand with a sigh.
She notices the half-petulant action, and compresses her lips
slightly.

"Now I have seen you, I shall feel better," she says, sweetly. "And--I
think I must be going."

"Will you desert us so soon?" says Sartoris, reproachfully. "At least
stay to luncheon----." He pauses, and sighs profoundly. Just now the
idea that the routine of daily life must be carried on whether our
beloved lie dead upon their couches or stand living in our path, is
hateful to him.

"I hardly like," says Clarissa, nervously; "I fear----"

Dorian, rousing himself from his thoughts, comes back to the present
moment.

"Oh, stay, Clarissa," he says, hurriedly. "You really must, you know.
You cannot imagine what a relief you are to us: you help us to bear
our gloomy memories. Besides, Arthur has tasted nothing for hours, and
your being here may tempt him, perhaps, to eat."

"If I can be of any use----," says Clarissa, kindly. Whereupon
Sartoris gives her his arm, and they all adjourn to the dining-room.

It is a large, old-fashioned, stately apartment, oak-panelled, with
large mullioned windows, and a massive marble chimney-piece that
reaches high as a