She got to the door, she turned the key; her brother entered quickly, and stood in Elizabeth's desolate room. "Where is Elizabeth?" she cried. "I can't find her--I want Elizabeth." Mellen felt a shiver of dread pass through his frame. He pushed the chamber-door open and looked in, pale with anxiety. She was not there--the bed was untouched, and gleamed upon him through the crimson light that filled the room, like a crusted snowbank. There was none of that luxurious confusion which usually marks the apartment of a sleeping lady. The rich toilet service was in complete order. There was no jewelry flung down with half sleepy indifference, no garments laying ready for use on the chairs, or across the sofa. The silken window curtains were drawn close. The carpet looked like moss in the deep shadows of an autumnal forest. "Gone, gone! Oh, my God, what has become of her?" he exclaimed. "Where--what has happened? Is she dead? Oh, I shall go mad--I shall go mad now," cried Elsie. She fell into spasms, but still preserved her senses sufficiently not to speak again--she dared not utter a word more, lest she should betray her knowledge of Elizabeth's sorrow. Mellen carried her to the sofa and laid her down upon it, wrapped shawls and eider down quilts over her, holding her hands, which trembled like frightened birds, striving in every way to soothe her, as Elizabeth had so often done in the time gone by for ever. Elsie lay back at length, quiet but utterly exhausted. "Where is Elizabeth?" she moaned. "What has happened?" "Never take that name on your lips again," he said; "let even her memory be dead between us. That woman is no longer my wife--you will never see her. She shall not suffer; I will deal gently with her; but to you, my dearest sister, she is dead, forever and ever." "You have killed her!" shrieked Elsie. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" "She leaves this house of her free will, Elsie--the only condition I have made is that she takes her name far out of our lives. Have you known--have you suspected this woman, Elsie?" "No, no! I don't know anything but what is good of her--I don't believe anything! She is good and kind--send for her! You shan't drive her away--she shall come to me now! My dear Elizabeth--I love her! You shall not do this--you are mad, mad! She is the best woman that ever lived! Let me go to her--I will go!" She was writhing again in hysterical spasms, but Mellen forced her back when she attempted to rise. "Be still, Elsie--try to understand me! I can't tell you the whole story--but we are parted. Do not plead for her. Do not mention her name." "But, Grantley, Grantley!" "No more, I say--not a word." "She is innocent," moaned the girl; "she is innocent." "I know what you suffer--think of all that I endure--let that give you strength." "I tell you she is an angel--she has done no wrong!"