“I think Richard is safe.  Had we postponed the tidings, till he came to his clear senses, it must have killed him.  His father was right for once, then.  But if he has saved his son’s body, he has given the death-blow to his heart.  Richard will never be what he promised.

“A letter found on his clothes tells us the origin of the quarrel.  I have had an interview with Lord M. this morning.  I cannot say I think him exactly to blame:  Richard forced him to fight.  At least I do not select him the foremost for blame.  He was deeply and sincerely affected by the calamity he has caused.  Alas! he was only an instrument.  Your poor aunt is utterly prostrate and talks strange things of her daughter’s death.  She is only happy in drudging.  Dr. Bairam says we must under any circumstances keep her employed.  Whilst she is doing something, she can chat freely, but the moment her hands are not occupied she gives me an idea that she is going into a fit.

“We expect the dear child’s uncle to-day.  Mr. Thompson is here.  I have taken him upstairs to look at her.  That poor young man has a true heart.

“Come at once.  You will not be in time to see her.  She will lie at Raynham.  If you could you would see an angel.  He sits by her side for hours.  I can give you no description of her beauty.

“You will not delay, I know, dear Austin, and I want you, for your presence will make me more charitable than I find it possible to be.  Have you noticed the expression in the eyes of blind men?  That is just how Richard looks, as he lies there silent in his bed—­striving to image her on his brain.”

THE END

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