, on his
terms, and Wharton leaves town till the papers are drawn up and the
woman packed off. He has had a shock which will prevent his working for
some time."

"He may not feel like painting saints," said Mr. Dudley, "but I should
think he was in good form for painting sinners. Is there no room for a
Jezebel in your portrait gallery?"

Mr. Dudley was too weak for late hours and Hazard went away early. As he
went he said he would come again to tell them the next chapter, if there
was one.

"Be quick about it!" said Mr. Dudley. "I am like the Sultan who cut off
his wives' heads because they would not tell him stories fast enough. It
is not convenient for me to wait."

To Esther this evening was the last when the stars shone bright and
clear. The next morning her glimpse of blue sky had vanished and the
rigor of the storm began.

She was waked by the news that in the night her father had been seized
by another paroxysm, and that although better, he was excessively weak.
He had forbidden his attendants to call her, on the cool calculation
that he should probably pull through this attack, and that she would
need all her strength for the next. When Esther came down to his room,
she found him in a state of complete prostration, so that his doctors
had forbidden him to speak or even to listen. They no longer talked with
him, but gave their orders to her, and she took charge of the sick-room
at once with all its responsibilities and fatigues. After a consultation
of very few moments, the physicians told her plainly that there was no
hope; her father might linger a short time, but any sudden emotion would
kill him on the spot.

During the day he rallied a little and in the evening was stronger.
Esther, who had been all day in his room, rested till midnight and then
took her regular watch by his side. She knew that there was no hope and
that her father himself was only anxious for the end, yet to see him
suffer and slowly fade out was terrible. At such moments, tears are
forbidden. Esther had been told that she must not give way to
agitation, under the risk of killing her father, who lay dozing,
half-conscious, with his face turned towards her. Whenever his eyes
opened they rested on hers. In the dim light she watched his motions,
and it seemed to her that he was also watching hers. She wondered
whether he could feel stronger because she was near him. Was he afraid?
He, who had never to her knowledge shrunk from any dang