k, Nora's last letter.
The postman had left it there an hour or two after he himself had gone.
The wedding-ring fell on the ground, and rolled under his feet. And
those burning, passionate reproaches, all that anger of the wounded
dove, explained to him the mystery of her return, her unjust suspicions,
the cause of her sudden death, which he still ascribed to brain fever,
brought on by excitement and fatigue. For Nora did not speak of the
child about to be born; she had not remembered it when she wrote, or she
would not have written. On the receipt of this letter, Egerton could not
remain in the dull village district,--alone, too, with Harley. He
said, abruptly, that he must go to London; prevailed on L'Estrange to
accompany him; and there, when he heard from Lady Lansmere that the
funeral was over, he broke to Harley, with lips as white as the dead,
and his hand pressed to his heart, on which his hereditary disease was
fastening quick and fierce, the dread truth that Nora was no more. The
effect upon the boy's health and spirits was even more crushing than
Audley could anticipate. He only woke from grief to feel remorse. "For,"
said the noble Harley, "had it not been for my passion, my rash pursuit,
would she ever have left her safe asylum,--ever even have left her
native town? And then--and then--the struggle between her sense of
duty and her love to me! I see it all--all! But for me she were living
still!"

"Oh, no!" cried Egerton, his confession now rushing to his lips.

"Believe me, she never loved you as you think. Nay, nay, hear me! Rather
suppose that she loved another, fled with him, was perhaps married to
him, and--"

"Hold!" exclaimed Harley, with a terrible burst of passion,--"you kill
her twice to me if you say that! I can still feel that she lives--lives
here, in my heart--while I dream that she loved me--or, at least, that
no other lip ever knew the kiss that was denied to mine! But if you tell
me to doubt that--you--you--" The boy's anguish was too great for
his frame; he fell suddenly back into Audley's arms; he had broken a
blood-vessel. For several days he was in great danger; but his eyes were
constantly fixed on Audley's, with wistful intense gaze. "Tell me,"
he muttered, at the risk of re-opening the ruptured veins, and of the
instant loss of life,--"tell me, you did not mean that! Tell me you have
no cause to think she loved another--was another's!"

"Hush, hush! no cause--none--none! I meant