t of the question because
her life was waning, then unconsciously there grew up in his heart
a feeling that the young lord ought not to rob him of what was left.
Had Marion insisted, he would have yielded. Had Mrs. Roden told him
that it was cruel to separate them, he would have groaned and given
way. As it was, he simply leaned to that view of the matter which
gave him the greatest preponderance with his own child. It may be
that she saw it too, and would not wound him by asking for her
lover's presence.

About the middle of September she died, having written to Hampstead
the very day before her death. Her letters lately had become but a
few words each, which Mrs. Roden would put into an envelope and send
to their destination. He wrote daily, assuring her that he would not
leave his home for a day in order that he might go to her instantly
when she would send for him. To the last she never gave up the idea
of seeing him again;--but at last the little light flickered out
quicker than had been expected.

Mrs. Roden was at Pegwell Bay when the end came; and to her fell
the duty of making it known to Lord Hampstead. She went up to town
immediately, leaving the Quaker in the desolate cottage, and sent
down a note from Holloway to Hendon Hall. "I must see you as soon as
possible. Shall I go to you, or will you come to me?" When she wrote
the words she was sure that he would understand their purport, and
yet it was easier to write so than to tell the cruel truth plainly.
The note was sent down by a messenger, but Lord Hampstead in person
was the answer.

There was no need of any telling. When he stood before her dressed
from head to foot in black, she took him by the two hands and looked
into his face. "It is all over for her," he said,--"the trouble and
the anguish, and the sense of long dull days to come. My Marion! How
infinitely she has the best of it! How glad I ought to be that it is
so."

"You must wait, Lord Hampstead," she said.

"Pray, pray, let me have no consolation. Waiting in the sense you
mean there will be none. For the one relief which will finally come
to me I must of course wait. Did she say any word that you would wish
to tell me!"

"Many, many."

"Were they for my ears?"

"What other words should she have spoken to me? They were prayers for
your health."

"My health needs not her prayers."

"Prayers for your soul's health."

"Such praying will be efficacious there,--or would be were anyth