aker stood a moment longer in silence beside
the figure in the chair, and it seemed to Robert, gazing at him with
fixed eyes, that the man's whole presence, at once so homely and so
majestic, was charged with benediction. It was as though invisible
hands of healing and consecration had been laid upon him. The fiery soul
beside him had kindled anew the drooping life of his own. So the torch
of God passes on its way, hand reaching out to hand.

He bent forward, stammering incoherent words of assent and gratitude, he
knew not what. Mr. Grey, who had sunk into his chair, gave him time
to recover himself. The intensity of the tutor's own mood relaxed; and
presently he began to talk to his guest, in a wholly different tone, of
the practical detail of the step before him, supposing it to be taken
immediately, discussing the probable attitude of Robert's bishop, the
least conspicuous mode of withdrawing from the living, and so on--all
with gentleness and sympathy indeed, but with an indefinable change of
manner, which showed that he felt it well both for himself and Elsmere
to repress any further expression of emotion. There was something, a
vein of stoicism perhaps, in Mr. Grey's temper of mind, which, while
it gave a special force and sacredness to his rare moments of fervent
speech, was wont in general to make men more self-controlled than usual
in his presence. Robert felt now the bracing force of it.

'Will you stay with us to dinner?' Mr. Grey asked when at last Elsmere
got up to go. 'There are one or two lone Fellows coming, asked before
your telegram came, of course. Do exactly as you like.'

'I think not,' said Robert, after a pause. 'I longed to see you, but I
am--not fit for general society.'

Mr. Grey did not press him. He rose and went with his visitor to the
door.

'Good-by, good-by! Let me always know what I can do for you. And your
wife--poor thing, poor thing! Go and tell her, Elsmere: don't lose a
moment you can help. God help her and you!'

They grasped each other's hands. Mr. Grey followed him down the stairs
and along the narrow hall. He opened the hall door, and smiled a last
smile of encouragement and sympathy into the eyes that expressed such a
young moved gratitude. The door closed. Little did Elsmere realize that
never, in this life, would he see that smile or hear that voice again!

CHAPTER XXVIII.

In half an hour from the time Mr. Grey's door closed upon him, Elsmere
had caught a conven