ad quitted her bed. And Evan, too, for
the first time in many weeks, came with feeble, halting steps to his
sister's room, and sitting near her, scanned her wasted features with
wistful intentness.

"Poor sis!" he murmured, stroking her hand softly. "We've had a pretty
hard pull, you and I, but we're coming out famously." And then he added
to himself, "More's the pity, so far as I am concerned."

"What made you ill, Evan?" she whispered feebly. "Was it worrying about
me?"

A bright flush leaped to his cheeks and burned there hotly.

"Yes, it was about you, sis. But you will soon be as well and happy as
ever, won't you?" anxiously.

"To be sure, Evan; we will both get well very fast. We have got so much
to live for, and we are too young to die."

CHAPTER XLI.

SIR CLIFFORD HEATHERCLIFFE.

It is the opening hour of Clifford Heath's trial.

The court room is crowded to its utmost capacity; never has there
occurred a trial there so intensely interesting to all W----.

The prisoner is a little paler, a little graver than his ordinary self.
But is his ordinary self in every other respect; as proud of bearing, as
self-possessed, as handsome, and _distingue_ as ever.

Beside him sits Mr. O'Meara, alone. Mr. Wedron, after all his labor, and
his seeming interest, is unaccountably absent; unaccountably, at least,
so far as the opposition, the prisoner, the judge, jury, and all the
spectators are concerned. Mr. O'Meara seems not at all disturbed by his
absence, and evidently understands all about it.

Near the prisoner sits a man who causes a buzz of inquiry to run through
the entire audience.

He is tall, fair haired, handsome; the carriage of his head, the
haughtiness of his bearing, reminds more than one present of Clifford
Heath, as they first knew him. He is a stranger to all W----, and "Who
is he? Who is he?" runs from lip to lip.

The stranger is seemingly oblivious of the attention lavished upon him;
he bends forward at times, and whispers a word to the prisoner, or his
counsel, and he turns occasionally to murmur something in the ear of
Constance Wardour, who sits beside him, grave, stately, calm.

She is accompanied by Mrs. Aliston and Mrs. O'Meara, and Ray Vandyck
sits beside the latter lady, and completes the party.

Mr. Lamotte is there, subdued, yet affable, and Frank, too, who is paler
than usual, but quite self-possessed.

Near the party above mentioned, may be seen the two city physicia