“I have telegraphed to North End for Uncle Fabian and Clarence, also to West Point for Sylvanus.  Sylvan cannot reach here before to-morrow, but my uncles will be here this evening.  Shall I send you word when they arrive?”

“No.  Let no one come to me to-night.”

“Shall I send you up anything, grandfather?”

“No, no.  If I require anything I will ring for it.  Go now, Cora, and leave me to myself.”

The girl went away, closing the door behind her.  As she descended the stairs she heard the key turned, and knew that her grandfather had so shut out all intruders.

He who had come home hungry and furious as a famished wolf never appeared at the dinner that he had so peremptorily ordered to be served at once, but shut himself up fasting with his dead.  If his eyes were now opened to see how much he had made her suffer through his selfishness, cruelty, and despotism all her married life—­if his late remorse awoke—­if he grieved for her—­no one ever knew it.  He never gave expression to it.

CHAPTER VIII.

“THE PEACE OF GOD WHICH PASSETH ALL UNDERSTANDING.”

In the late dawn of that dark winter day Mr. Clarence came down into the parlor, and found Cora still there, with one gas jet burning low.

“Up so early, my dear child?” he said, as he took her hand and gave her the good morning kiss.

“I have not been in bed,” she replied.

“Not in bed all night!  That was wrong.  How cold your hands are?  Go to bed now, dear.”

“I cannot.  I do not wish to.”

“My poor, doubly bereaved child, how much I feel for you!” he said, in a tender tone, and still holding her hand.

“Do not mind me, Uncle Clarence.  I do not feel for myself.  I am numb.  I feel nothing—­nothing,” she replied.

Mr. Clarence, still holding her hand, led her to a large easy chair, and put her in it.

Then he went and rang the bell.

“Tell the cook to make a strong cup of coffee as quickly as she can, and bring it up here to Mrs. Rothsay,” he said to the man who answered the call.

The latter touched his forehead and left the room.

Mr. Clarence had tact enough not to worry his niece with any more words.  He went and opened one of the front windows to look out upon the wintry morning.  The ground was covered very deeply with the snow, which was now falling so thickly as to obscure every object.

When the servant entered with the coffee, Mr. Clarence himself took it from the man’s hand, and carried it to his niece and persuaded her to drink it.

The servant meanwhile, mindful of the proprieties, when he saw the front window open, went and closed it, and then passed down the room and opened both the back windows, which gave sufficient light to the whole area of the apartment.

Finally he turned off the gas, and taking up the empty coffee service, left the room.