him; he burst into tears
and stood hiding his face with the rough cap he held. Maud turned to
her aunt, who remained at a little distance, unmoving, her eyes cast
down. Before any other word was said, the door opened quickly, and Mrs.
Enderby ran in with a smothered cry. Throwing her arms about her
husband, she clung to him in a passion of grief and tenderness. In a
moment she had been changed from the listless, childish woman of the
last few months to a creature instinct with violent emotion. Her
mingled excess of joy and anguish could not have displayed itself more
vehemently had she been sorrowing night and day for her husband's loss.
Maud was terrified at the scene, and shrunk to Theresa's side. Without
heeding either, the distracted woman led Paul from the room, and
upstairs to her own chamber. Drawing him to a chair, she fell on her
knees beside him and wept agonisingly.

"You will stay with me now?" she cried, when her voice could form
words. "You won't leave me again, Paul? We will hide you here.--No, no;
I am for getting. You will go away with us, away from London to a safe
place. Maud is going to be married to-morrow, and we will live with her
in her new home. You have suffered dreadfully; you look so changed, so
ill. You shall rest, and I will nurse you. Oh, I will be a good wife to
you, Paul. Speak to me, do speak to me: speak kindly, dear! How long is
it since I lost you?"

"I daren't stay, Emily," he replied, in a hoarse and broken voice. "I
should be discovered. I must get away from England, that is my only
chance. I have scarcely left the house where I was hiding all this
time. It wouldn't have been safe to try and escape, even if I had had
any money. I have hungered for days, and I am weaker than a child."

He sobbed again in the extremity of his wretchedness.

"It was all for my sake!" she cried, clinging around his neck. "I am
your curse. I have brought you to ruin a second time. I am a bad,
wretched woman; if you drove me from you with blows it would be less
than I deserve! You can never forgive me; but let me be your slave, let
me suffer something dreadful for your sake! Why did I ever recover from
my madness, only to bring that upon you!"

He could speak little, but leaned back, holding her to him with one arm.

"No, it is not your fault, Emily," he said. "Only my own weakness and
folly. Your love repays me for all I have undergone; that was all I
ever wanted."

When she had exhausted hers