n Helena's nature."

"But when she comes out of prison, what will she do?"

"Don't alarm yourself, my good friend. She will do very well."

"Oh, hush! hush! Poetical justice, Mr. Governor!"

"Poetical fiddlesticks, Miss Jillgall."

CHAPTER LXIII. THE OBSTACLE REMOVED.

When the subject of the trial was happily dismissed, my first inquiry
related to Eunice. The reply was made with an ominous accompaniment of
sighs and sad looks. Eunice had gone back to her duties as governess at
the farm. Hearing this, I asked naturally what had become of Philip.

Melancholy news, again, was the news that I now heard.

Mr. Dunboyne the elder had died suddenly, at his house in Ireland, while
Philip was on his way home. When the funeral ceremony had come to an
end, the will was read. It had been made only a few days before the
testator's death; and the clause which left all his property to his son
was preceded by expressions of paternal affection, at a time when Philip
was in sore need of consolation. After alluding to a letter, received
from his son, the old man added: "I always loved him, without caring to
confess it; I detest scenes of sentiment, kissings, embracings, tears,
and that sort of thing. But Philip has yielded to my wishes, and has
broken off a marriage which would have made him, as well as me, wretched
for life. After this, I may speak my mind from my grave, and may tell my
boy that I loved him. If the wish is likely to be of any use, I will add
(on the chance)--God bless him."

"Does Philip submit to separation from Eunice?" I asked. "Does he stay
in Ireland?"

"Not he, poor fellow! He will be here to-morrow or next day. When I last
wrote," Miss Jillgall continued, "I told him I hoped to see you again
soon. If you can't help us (I mean with Eunice) that unlucky young man
will do some desperate thing. He will join those madmen at large who
disturb poor savages in Africa, or go nowhere to find nothing in the
Arctic regions.

"Whatever I can do, Miss Jillgall, shall be gladly done. Is it really
possible that Eunice refuses to marry him, after having saved his life?"

"A little patience, please, Mr. Governor; let Philip tell his own
story. If I try to do it, I shall only cry--and we have had tears enough
lately, in this house."

Further consultation being thus deferred, I went upstairs to the
Minister's room.

He was sitting by the window, in his favorite armchair, absorbed in
knitting! The person who atten