rn.
Always abstemious, also, for this last twelve days he had scarcely
swallowed enough food to support him, with the result that his body
weakened and suffered with his mind.

Then there was a third trouble to contend with,--the dull and gnawing
sense of shame which seemed to eat into his heart. In actual fact, he
had been faithful enough to Mary, but in mind he was most unfaithful.
How could he come to her, the woman who was to be his wife, the woman
who had dealt so well by him, with the memory of that spiritual marriage
at the altar of the Dead Church still burning in his brain--that
marriage which now was consecrated and immortalised by death? What had
he to give her that was worth her taking? he, who if the truth were
known, shrank from all idea of union with any earthly woman; who longed
only to be allowed to live out his time in a solitude as complete as he
could find or fashion? It was monstrous; it was shameful; and then and
there he determined that before ever he stood in Monksland church by the
side of Mary Porson, at least he would tell her the truth, and give
her leave to choose. To his other sins against her deceit should not be
added.

"Might I suggest, Morris," said the Colonel, who as they drove, had
been watching his son's face furtively by the light of the brougham
lamp--"might I suggest that, under all the circumstances, Mary would
perhaps appreciate an air a little less reminiscent of funerals? You may
recollect that several months have passed since you parted."

"Yes," said Morris, "and a great deal has happened in that time."

"Of course, her father is dead." The Colonel alluded to no other death.
"Poor Porson! How painfully that beastly window in the dining-room
will remind me of him! Come, here we are; pull yourself together, old
fellow."

Morris obeyed as best he could, and presently found himself following
the Colonel into the drawing-room, for once in his life, as he
reflected, heartily glad to have the advantage of his parent's society.
He could scarcely be expected to be very demonstrative and lover-like
under the fire of that observant eyeglass.

As they entered the drawing-room by one door, Mary, looking very
handsome and imposing in a low black dress, which became her fair beauty
admirably, appeared at the other. Catching sight of Morris, she ran,
or rather glided, forward with the graceful gait that was one of her
distinctions, and caught him by both hands, bending her face towa