ace down on the pillows to stifle his sobs.

Violet was roused to such a degree of bewildered distress and alarm at
the sight of his grief, that the doctors insisted on removing him, and
almost forced him away.

There had been prayers offered for her, of which she knew nothing.

The clergyman was gone, and John had despatched his melancholy letter to
Lord Martindale, when he heard the steps on the stairs. Was it over!
No, it was only one of the doctors with Arthur, and they did not come to
him, but talked in the back drawing-room for some moments, after which
the doctor took leave, repeating the words in John's hearing, that
Arthur must compose himself before returning to her--agitation would
be at once fatal. Arthur had thrown himself on the sofa, with his face
hidden in his hands, in such overpowering distress, that his brother's
displeasure could not continue for a moment, and he began to speak
soothingly of the present improvement.

'It cannot last,' said Arthur. 'They say it is but a question of minutes
or hours,' and again he gave way to a burst of grief, but presently it
changed to an angry tone. 'Why was I never sent for?'

John explained that no one knew whither to send. He could hardly credit
this, and his wrath increased at the stupidity of the servants; it
seemed to relieve him to declaim against them.

'Then you left her well?'

'Of course I did. She had been searching over the house for that
abominable cigar-case of mine, which was in my pocket all the time! I
shall never bear to see it again,' and he launched it into the fire with
vehemence. 'I suppose that upset her! Why did I not prevent her? Fool
that I was not to know it was not fit for her, though she chose to do
it. But I never took care of her.'

'She is so very unselfish,' said John.

'That was it. I thought women always looked out for themselves. I should
have known I had one not like the rest! She had never one thought
for herself, and it is killing her, the sweetest, loveliest, best--my
precious Violet! John, John! is there nothing that can be done for her?'
cried he, starting up in a tumultuous agony of grief, and striking his
foot on the floor.

'Could we not send for her mother? Brown might set off at once to fetch
her.'

'Thank you, but no, it is of no use. No railroad within forty miles of
the place. She could not be here till--till--and then I could not see
her.' He was pacing the room, and entangled his foot in Violet's litt