And, even though the last interview he had had with her had shown him his error in this respect, had revealed to him, so distinctly that miscomprehension was impossible, her shuddering abhorrence of him, could he give her up? No! — a thousand times, No! — a million times, No! No devil in hell, no God in heaven, should make him leave her to another!

Smiting himself upon the breast, anon cursing himself and cursing her, anon pressing her picture passionately to his heart, so the wretched man passed the slow hours of the weary night.

Deputy and Mr. Datchery, always on the watch, saw the light, the steady light, ever burning in the Gate House. The grey morning peeping in, revealed a motionless form, haggard and worn out with watching and passion. Finally, Mrs. Tope, all bustle and broom and duster, coming in, was “that shocked” at beholding her honoured Mr. Jasper so prostrate, that, as she afterwards said, you might have knocked her down with a feather.

“Lord, ha’ mercy on us!” was her first terrified exclamation, then, prompt in action, she had assisted Mr. Jasper to his easy chair, and was moistening his pale forehead with water, before he had time to become fully conscious of her presence. “There, there!” said the good woman, patting him as if he were a baby, “you are coming round nicely now; a few drops of wine will set you all right again,” and hastening to a small sideboard behind the door, she poured out a glass of strong wine and held it to his lips. A faint colour flushed his face, and, with a slight motion of his hand, he indicated the open boxes and things scattered about, as if to account for his condition.

But Mrs. Tope — bless her heart! — knew all about it, and her busy woman’s tongue was already supplying all deficiencies in his explanation.

“Lord bless you, sir, I know! what with a packin’ up, and what with a thinkin’ of Mr. Edwin, it’s been too much for you. Tope, he’ll bear me witness, that only last night I said to him, ‘Tope,’ says I, ‘I’ll bet you all the money in the parish boxes, and something more — for there ain’t much in ‘em — that not one-half an eye does Mr. Jasper close this live-long night.’ It ain’t no wonder either, for a sweeter young gentleman, or a kinder, never lived, and many’s the tear I’ve shed, as Tope will certify to, for him and for you, sir; but, if you’ll excuse my takin’ the liberty for to say it, we must all try not to fret and worry ourselves too much, even when the trouble’s very hard to bear. It ain’t no mortal use, the grave will never give up its dead.”

What was that, glancing out sinister from the halfclosed eyes of the pale occupant of the easy chair? What devil was that, hissingly and triumphantly repeating her last words, “the grave will never give up its dead?” Whatever it was, it was gone again in a moment, sinking back into the darkness whence it had sprung, and leaving no trace of its presence behind. Mrs. Tope could have sworn she had seen and heard it one moment, and the next, almost doubted her own senses. It stopped her chatter, however, and left her staring with foolish, wide-open eyes at the motionless figure opposite her.

“You are very kind and sympathising,” said the choir-master feebly, “and I trust and rely on your affection and fidelity to me in all things; but this is a topic upon which I cannot trust myself to speak; the wound is still too new; it hurts too much,” and, covering his eyes with his long, thin hand, he sank back in his easy chair, while Mrs. Tope, a little rebuffed and a little piqued at first, speedily recovered her spirits in the exercise of her household duties.

The room became brighter, healthier, freer. Even Mr. Jasper, not insensible to the cheerful influence, let fall the hand shadowing his eyes, and smiled grateful acknowledgment at the verger’s wife.

Presently, out of the small kitchen below, issued a savoury odour; coffee perfumed the atmosphere; a snowy cloth decked the table; plate and cup and saucer, and brightly polished knives contributed their part to the completion of a cheerful whole. In a word, and in an incredibly short time, breakfast, neat and dainty, was laid. Before beginning on it, he motioned Mrs. Tope to take the vacant chair beside him.

“Just this once,” he pleaded, as she modestly hesitated, “for the first and perhaps the last time, good Mrs. Tope.

Swearing