“She is with her brother Herbert, at Mrs. Hornblower’s lodgings.  No, you must wait, Archie; he has barely in the last few hours, by God’s great mercy, taken a turn for the better in this fever, and I don’t see how she can leave him.”

“But she must hear it,” cried Rosamond.  “I’m going to make her or Cranky get some rest; but you ought to be the one to tell her, Julius, you that have stood by her through all.”

“And aren’t you burning to do so, Rosey, woman? and I think you had better, rather than that I should startle Herbert by returning; but stay, mind your own rules—­eat and drink before you go, and give the same to Archie.  I shall send up a note to Miles.  How is Cecil?”

“Very silent and broken, poor thing.  She is to see your mother to-morrow.  How well it was that she kept me so late over her wreath of camellias!”

Archie submitted to wait for food and fuller information,—­indeed the lady of the house manifested more impatience than he did, as she flitted about making preparations, and he sat with hands locked together over his knee, gazing fixedly at Julius, scarcely speaking, though eagerly listening; and when the meal was brought in, he could not eat, only eagerly drank off a cup of scalding tea, and watched Rosamond, as if jealous of any delay over her cutlet.  She did not abuse his patience.

“Now then?” she said, rising.  “You shall hear something of her before long.”

“Let me come to her door,” entreated Archie.

And as the light shone from the window of the sick-room, Rosamond said, “Stand under that tree in the moonlight, and I will make her look out.”

All was intensely quiet; Cranky fast asleep in the arm-chair in the outer-room, and Jenny sitting by the bed, watching the smooth quiet breath.

“You are to lie down on the sofa and sleep,” said Rosamond, kissing her, and she shook her head, “You must.  People want strength for joy as well as grief.  Trust him to me, for there is some one for you to see to-morrow.”

“Not papa!” said Jenny, startled.  “No, nor Phil!  Tell me, Rosamond.  There is only one you could look at me like that for!”

“Look out at the window.”

Trembling all over, Jenny went and put her face to the lattice.  The figure under the tree came nearer.  Archie must have been able clearly to see her face in the moonlight.  He stretched up his arms to her, then folded them together on his breast, and let himself be led away by Julius, while Jenny slid down on her knees, with her face buried, and the suppressed choking sobs made Herbert look up at Rosamond, and whisper, “It is?”

“It is,” repeated Rosamond, who had thought him asleep, or entirely absorbed in the trouble of living.

“Go to her,” he added.

Rosamond put her arm round her, and supported her into the next room; for, after the month of hopeless watching, the long sleeplessness and the struggle of this silent day to force her spirit to the forgiveness she had promised, and then the sudden reaction, had overpowered her, and the suppression and silence were beyond endurance.  She did not even know that Herbert was awake when Rosamond brought her out into Mrs. Hornblower’s room, and said, “Have it out now, my dear, no one will hear.  Scream comfortably.  It will do you good.”