more sullenly suspicious of the words and looks of those about him than
ever--went instantly to seek his daughter--and sent her in alone to her
mother's bedside. In a few minutes, she hurriedly came out again, pale,
and violently agitated; and was heard to say, that she had been spoken
to so unnaturally, and so shockingly, that she could not, and would not,
enter that room again until her mother was better. Better! the father
and daughter were both agreed in that; both agreed that she was not
dying, but only out of her mind.

During the afternoon, the doctors ordered that Mrs. Sherwin should
not be allowed to see her husband or her child again, without their
permission. There was little need of taking such a precaution to
preserve the tranquillity of her last moments. As the day began to
decline, she sank again into insensibility: her life was just not death,
and that was all. She lingered on in this quiet way, with her eyes
peacefully closed, and her breathing so gentle as to be quite inaudible,
until late in the evening. Just as it grew quite dark, and the candle
was lit in the sick room, the servant who was helping to watch by her,
drew aside the curtain to look at her mistress; and saw that, though
her eyes were still closed, she was smiling. The girl turned round,
and beckoned to the nurse to come to the bedside. When they lifted the
curtains again to look at her, she was dead.

* * * * *

Let me return to the day of my last visit to North Villa. More remains
to be recorded, before my narrative can advance to the morrow.

After the door had closed, and I knew that I had looked my last on Mrs.
Sherwin in this world, I remained a few minutes alone in the room, until
I had steadied my mind sufficiently to go out again into the streets. As
I walked down the garden-path to the gate, the servant whom I had seen
on my entrance, ran after me, and eagerly entreated that I would wait
one moment and speak to her.

When I stopped and looked at the girl, she burst into tears. "I'm afraid
I've been doing wrong, Sir," she sobbed out, "and at this dreadful time
too, when my poor mistress is dying! If you please, Sir, I _must_ tell
you about it!"

I gave her a little time to compose herself; and then asked what she had
to say.

"I think you must have seen a man leaving a letter with me, Sir," she
continued, "just when you came up to the door, a little while ago?"

"Yes: I saw him."

"It was for Miss