r. Martin came to her one day, and,
taking the thin little hand in his, gave her his faithful promise
that, if the fever abated, and she were strong enough, she should help
to nurse him by and by, but it would depend upon herself, he said,
meaningly; and Fay promised to eat and sleep that she might be fit to
nurse Hugh.

She meant to be good and keep her promise; but one evening the longing
to see her husband was too strong for her.

Saville had just gone down-stairs for something and had left the
dressing-room door ajar. Fay, gliding down the corridor in her white
dress, caught sight of the half-opened door, and the temptation was
too strong for her; the next moment she was in the dimly lighted room,
with her finger on the handle of the closed door.

It yielded to her touch at once, and Fay's hungry eyes tried to pierce
through the semi-darkness.

It was the oriel chamber, and Sir Hugh lay on the very bed where, Mrs.
Heron had solemnly assured Fay, many a Redmond had breathed his first
and last breath. It had been found impossible to move him, but Fay did
not remember this as she stood with beating heart, not daring to move
a step.

It was very quiet and still--one of the strange nurses was sitting by
the bed with her face toward the patient; she had not heard Fay's
stealthy entrance; the next moment Fay choked back a sob that
threatened to rise in her throat, for she had caught sight at last of
the white changed face that lay on the pillow; and then, regardless of
everything but her love and longing, she glided quickly to the bed,
and kissing the wide staring eyes, laid the shaven head tenderly upon
her bosom.

"Oh, my lady!" exclaimed the nurse, in a terrified voice, "this is
very wrong--very wrong indeed."

"Hush--I am his wife--I have a right to be here. You know me, do you
not, my darling Hugh?"

Poor Fay! she had her punishment then; for Hugh did not know her in
the least, and seemed to shrink from her with horror; he begged her to
send Margaret to him--his dear Margaret, and not stand there like some
white horrible statue dressed up in grave-clothes.

"You had better go, my lady, you are only exciting him," observed the
nurse, quietly; and Fay wrung her hands and hurried from the room.
Saville found her crouching against the dressing-room door, with her
face hidden in her hands, and fetched Mrs. Heron at once to coax her
away; but Fay hardly seemed to understand their meaning; her face had
a white,