ance.
Remembering this, she had prayed Heaven strike and blight her, in fear
that she herself should blight the noble and the innocent things she
loved. And while she had thought she bore the burden all alone, the
gentle sister, who had so worshipped her, had known her secret and
borne it with her silently. In dying she had revealed it, with
trembling and piteous love, and this my lord Duke had heard, and her
pure words as she had died.

"Anne! Anne!" the anguished voice had cried. "Must he know--my Gerald?
Must I tell him all? If so I must, I will--upon my knees!"

"Nay, tell him not," was faintly breathed in answer. "Let God tell
him--who understands."

"'Tis in myself," my lord Duke said at last, through his shut teeth,
"'tis in _myself_ to have struck the blow, and had I done it and found
him lie dead before me--in her dear name I swear, and in a new shriven
soul's presence, for sure the pure thing is near--I would have hid it
as she has done; for _naught_ should have torn her from me! And for her
sin, if sin it is counted, I will atone with her; and as she does her
penance, will do mine. And if, at the end of all things, she be called
to Judgment Bar, I will go with her and stand by her side. For her life
is my life, and her soul my soul, her sentence my sentence; and being
her love I will bear it with her, and pray Him who judges to lay the
burden heavier upon me than upon her."

And he went back to the Tower and up the stairway to the
turret-chamber, and there Mistress Anne lay still and calm and sweet as
a child asleep, and flowers and fair chaplets lay all about her white
bed and on her breast and in her small, worn hands, and garlanded her
pillow. And the setting sun had sent a shaft of golden glory through
the window to touch her hair and the blossoms lying on it.

And her sister stood beside her and looked down. And a new peace was on
her face when she laid her cheek upon her husband's breast as he
enfolded her.

"She is my saint," she said. "To-day she has taken my sins in her pure
hands to God and has asked mercy on them."

"And so having done, dear Heart," he answered her, "she lies amid her
flowers, and smiles."

But of that he had overheard he said no word. And if as time passed
there came some sacred hour when, their souls being one, there could be
no veil not rent away by Love and Nature, and the secret each had kept
was revealed to the other, 'twas surely so revealed as but to draw them