the stark figure in his arms, urging her to get up and dress.

"It is a lovely night, Ethel," he says; "the moon is shining, and you
know, you like to walk out on moonlight nights. Do you remember, love,
those nights at Margate; when we walked together first on the sands?
Ah! you never lay like this, cold and still, then. Do get up, Ethel!"
petulantly this; "I am tired of sitting here and waiting for you to
awake. You have slept long enough. Get up!"

He tries to lift her. Horror struck, Lady Helena catches him in time
to prevent it.

"Victor, Victor!" she cries, "for the love of Heaven put her down.
Come away. Don't you know she is dead?"

He lifts his dim eyes to her face, blind with the misery of a dumb
animal.

"_Dead_!" he whispers.

Then with a low, moaning gasp, he falls back in her arms, fainting
wholly away.

Her cries bring aid--they lift him and carry him up to his room,
undress and place him in bed. The family physician is summoned--feels
his pulse, hears what Lady Helena has to say, and looks very grave.
The shock has been too much for a not overstrong body or mind. Sir
Victor is in imminent danger of brain fever.

The night shuts down. A messenger comes to Lady Helena saying the