ing
of his life, aiding the depth and earnestness that seemed to pass into
our dear child as he hung over the dying lad. Yes, Trevor Lea and John
Maitland did for our Trevorsham what all our love and care had never
been able to do.

Meantime Hester's illness took its course. The chill of that icy water
had done great harm, and there was much inflammation at first, leaving
such oppression of breath that permanent injury to the lungs was
expected, and therefore it was all the sadder to see the dumb despair
with which she returned to understanding, I can hardly say to memory,
for I believe she had never lost it for a moment.

Hopeless, heedless, reckless, speechless, she was a passive weight,
lying or sitting, eating or drinking as she was bidden, but not making
any manifestation of preference or dislike, save that she turned
rigidly and sullenly away from any attempt to read prayers to her.

She asked no questions, attempted no employment, but seemed to care for
nothing, and for weeks uttering nothing but a "yes," "no," or a
mechanical "thank you." Jaquetta tried to caress her, by force of
nursing and pity. Jaquetta really had come to a warm tender love for
her, but she sullenly pushed away the sweet face, and turned aside.

We never ventured to leave her alone, and this, after a time, began to
vex her. She bade us go down once or twice, and tried to send away
Mrs. Rowe; and at last, when she found it was never permitted, she
broke out angrily one day, "You are very absurd to take so much trouble
to hinder what cannot make any difference."

It made one's blood run cold, and yet it was a relief that the silence
was broken. I can't tell what I said, only I implored her not to think
so, and told her that her having been rescued was a sign that Heaven
would have her repent and come back, but she laughed that horrible
laugh. "Do you think I repent?" she said; "No, only that I left it to
that fool! I should have made no mistakes."

I was too much horrified to do anything but hide my eyes and pray. I
thought I did not do so obviously, but Hester saw or guessed, stamped
at me, and said, "Don't; I will not have it done. It is mockery!"

"Happily you cannot prevent our doing that, my poor Lady Hester," I
said.

"All I wish you to do is, what you would do if you had a spark of
natural feeling."

"What?" I asked, bewildered at this apparent accusation of unkindness.

"Leave me to myself. Send me from your door.