In the stillness of the house, the sound of a door had revealed to Louis where to seek his cousin.  It was in the grand saloon, where the closed shutters availed not to exclude the solid beams of slanting sunlight falling through the crevices, and glancing on the gilding, velvet, and blazonry upon the costly coffin, that shut her out from the dear tender hands and lips that had never failed to caress away her childish griefs.  At first, the strange broad lines of shadowy light in the gloom were all he could see, but one ray tinged with paly light a plaited tress, which could only be Clara’s flaxen hair.

She had flung herself, crouching in a heap, on the floor, never stirring, so that he almost feared she had fainted; and, kneeling on one knee beside her, spoke soothingly:  ’My poor little dear Clary, this is the worst of all, but you know it was not Jem who spoke.  It was only prejudice and temper.  He is not himself.’

The dim light seemed to encourage Clara to lift her head to listen to the kind words.  ‘Was I so very wrong?’ she murmured; ’you know I never thought of that!  Will he forgive me, and let me come home?  But, oh, granny! and what is to become of my uncle?’ she ended, with a sound of misery.

‘Not here, not now, Clara—­’ said Louis; ’She is in perfect peace; unhurt by our unhappy dissensions; she is with Him who looks at hearts, who can take away all variance.’

There was a short space of silence, as the two cousins knelt in the darkened room, in the sunbeams, which seemed as if they could not yet forsake her who had lived in the light of love.

Presently Louis gave Clara his hand to raise her, and led her into the adjoining room, also dim, but full of sweet fragrant breezes from the garden.  He seated her on a low couch, and stood by, anxiously watching her.

‘If he had only told me I was wrong!’ she sighed.

’He could not tell you so, Clara, for it is not wrong, and he knows it is not.  He will thank you by-and-by for not attending to him, now that he does not know what he says.  He is fairly distracted with this grief coming upon his home cares.’

‘Cares at dear, dear happy home!’ cried Clara.  ‘Never!’

’Ah, Clara!  I fear that much comfort went away with dear granny.  I think he is overtasking himself at the school; and three children within a year may well make a man anxious and oppressed.’

‘And I have vexed and disappointed him more!’ exclaimed she.  ’No wonder he was angry, and ready to impute anything!  But he will believe me, he will forgive me, he will take me home.’

‘It is my belief,’ said Fitzjocelyn, in his peculiar way, ’that the worst injury you could do to James would be to give way to the spirit that has possessed him.’

‘But, Louis,’ cried Clara, wildly astonished, ’I must go; I can’t have Jem saying these things of me.’

‘His saying them does not make them true.’