er face,
for he was now suffering bitterly for all his neglect and unkindness to
his gentle little wife.

"O Louis, I have always loved you so much, so very much!" she said,
clinging more closely to him, and gazing into his face with an intensity
painful to witness, then smiling sweetly, she closed her eyes and all
was over. The others retired from the room, and Louis was left alone
with his dead wife, and had yet to learn the fate of his child.

During the time that elapsed before the funeral, Isabel carefully
avoided meeting him, and hoped that he had not noticed her on the
morning of his arrival. But just as he was about to leave, after that
had taken place, and she was congratulating herself for having managed
so nicely, a message was brought her that Dr. Taschereau wished to see
her before he went. Though annoyed, Isabel did not see how she could
very well refuse, so complied with the best grace she could. She found
him in the sitting room, looking very pale. "I could not leave, Miss
Leicester," he said, "without thanking you for your kindness to my wife.
I had no right to expect it."

"I merely did my duty, and do not require any thanks."

"I would ask one question," he continued, with a strong effort to be
calm. "Was my little girl dead when first taken up?"

"Quite dead," she answered.

"It is a bitter trial," he resumed, "I loved my child unutterably; the
blow seems to have crushed me, I have no longer any interest in
anything, I have nothing left, nothing!"

Isabel was silent, she was thinking of the time when she had nothing
left but him, and he had deserted her. And now it was the child he
grieved for and not his dear little wife. His treatment of her, had
always appeared to Isabel as his greatest fault, and her indignation was
aroused as she saw, or thought she saw, that he did not feel her loss as
he ought to have done. "I cannot but think," she said, "that the blow
was sent in mercy to her, in whose future there could only be pain,
weariness and silent suffering, and had she alone been taken, I can see
that you would soon have got over it."

"You have no idea of the agony and remorse I have endured or you would
not be so severe; you think because you know that I did not love my wife
as I should, that I do not feel her loss, but you are mistaken, her
angel gentleness and patience seem forever to upbraid me for my neglect
and unkindness." And unable any longer to control his feelings, he laid
his