"ELIZABETH--I said that even in your dying hour, I would never forgive you: I retract. If my pardon can console your last moments, remember that it is yours. I have made no alteration in my will; if you can accept the benefits which may accrue to you by my death, take them; but so surely as you ever attempt to approach the innocent girl who has been so long endangered by your companionship, my curse shall follow you, even from the grave to which you will have consigned me." He put the note in an envelope, sealed it carefully, and addressed it--"To Elizabeth." These were necessary precautions. The man who had twice wronged him possessed the fierce courage of a bravo. If Elizabeth was found with him, death might come to one of them--even if that followed, the woman who had been his wife should never share the degrading future of a man too vile for personal vengeance. In mercy to her he would separate them. He found Elsie sitting up in bed. She shrank away among the pillows when he entered; he saw the movement, and it shook his heart with a new pang. This artful woman had drawn the spell of her fascinations as closely about that pure girl as she had enthralled him. Elsie shrank from the brother who had deprived her of the love on which she had leaned. Elizabeth had left him nothing but bitterness. "Are you feeling better?" he asked, sitting down by the bed. "Oh, I never shall be any better," she murmured; "I shall die, and then, perhaps, you will be sorry." Mellen could not be angry with her; it wounded and stung him to hear her speak thus, but he answered, patiently: "When you are able to reflect, Elsie, you will see that I could not have acted differently. Few men would have shown as much leniency as I have done; regardless of the consequences to themselves, they would have made that woman's conduct public, and ruined her utterly." "She wasn't bad," cried Elsie; "you are crazy to think so. She was the best woman in the world." "Have you forgotten what I told you this morning--what I was forced to tell you or submit to your hatred? From yon window you could look out on the spot where she had buried----" "Be still!" interrupted Elsie, with a shriek. "I won't stay in the house if you go on so--be still, I say!" It required all his efforts to soothe the excited girl. He longed to question her, to know if she had left Elizabeth much alone during his absence, to understand how she could have been so persistently deceived, but she was in no state to endure such inquiries then. Elsie lay back among her pillows, refusing to be comforted: "If you want to cure me send for Bessie--my dear, dear Bessie! Search for her--send the people out!" "Elsie, she has gone with that man; I cannot follow her there." "No, no; she is wandering about in the cold. Go, search for her!" "Anything but that, Elsie--ask anything else in the world." "I don't want anything else."