d, so he could only beg to be
notified of anything he could possibly do, and go sadly away.

When Noel came, early next morning, a scant bit of black drapery, tied
with a white ribbon, told him that the thing had happened which deprived
Christine of all she loved on earth. The desire of her eyes was taken
from her and her house was left unto her desolate.

Eliza opened the door, and he came inside the hall and asked her a few
questions. The baby had died about midnight, the woman said. Dr. Belford
had stayed until it was over. The child was now prepared for burial,
the mother having done everything herself, seeming perfectly calm. She
would not eat, however, and was lying on the bed by the baby. He did not
need to inquire for the father, for at the end of the hall was the
dining-room, where he could see Dallas, with his back turned, seated at
the table, evidently making a hearty breakfast, the smell of which smote
offensively the visitor's nostrils. Noel felt he must get away, and yet
the thought of Christine, lying up-stairs alone by her little dead baby,
seemed to pull him by his very heartstrings.

He put some money into Eliza's hand, telling her to use it as she
thought necessary, and then went away. He next sought Dr. Belford and
sent a message to Christine, which he felt would fall as coldly as upon
the ear of a marble statue, and then he went to a florist's and sent her
a great heap of pure white flowers, which he thought she might care to
put about the baby. This done he felt helpless, impotent and miserable.

The next morning he went with Dr. Belford and helped to lower into the
earth the treasure of Christine's heart. There were but four persons
present, the mother, the clergyman, the physician and himself. Dallas
had slipped from the house early in the morning, telling Eliza he would
not be back, deliberately shirking the unpleasantness of the occasion.
He had never shown any love for the child, but a funeral was, in itself,
a painful thing, and he ran away from it. This, at least, was the
explanation given by Dr. Belford. Noel felt that the kind old doctor was
the being who could best help Christine now, since he had been with her
through the worst of her trial. So it was he who sat beside Christine as
they drove through the crowded city streets, with the little white
coffin on the seat opposite. Noel went in another carriage with the
clergyman, to whom he told something of Christine's history, begging him