“Oh, Harold, what is this that is coming upon us? Tell me that I am not to lose you!” “Never, darling, never! You are the sweetest charge that man ever had. You shall never leave me, Theresa!” “But this trouble--this bad news. Oh, Harold, do not torture me!” she sobbed. “Theresa, cannot you guess? Your father is an old man and----” “Ah! my father is ill! My poor, dear father. Let me go to him, Harold. Take me to him now.” He led her to the chamber of the dead man, but paused at the door, saying: “Theresa, he will never speak again. He died last night, and the doctor has already been here.” He never forgot the faint moan that left her anguished heart. For an instant she reeled, then glided into the death chamber, and kissed the cold face, her eyes tearless, her breath hot almost as a furnace. After this she did not speak for a long time, but was never far from her lover. Stimson was very busy all day, and several strange men moved about the house. The funeral was to be hurried. Sir Harold had strong reasons for this. He wanted it over and done with, and both the rector and the doctor were of the same opinion when he had explained his somewhat anomalous position. The clergyman was deeply interested in his story. He had heard of Sir Harold Annesley, and while he believed that it was wise to go abroad immediately after the marriage, he did not quite approve of so much secrecy. “It is an extraordinary experience,” he said, “and the reawakening will be a mental shock, Sir Harold. I once read of an accident to a bricklayer--some heavy substance was dropped down and struck his head, utterly destroying his memory. He fancied he was a child again. Twenty years elapsed before he recovered one month of what he had forgotten. His case was similar to yours in many respects, only that he remained in the care of his friends. Have you no one--no lady friend---who you could send for? Miss Hamilton needs some one, Sir Harold. Even a fond lover cannot supply all wants. A little womanly sympathy from one who is related to you would be a real blessing to the lonely child in this trying hour.” “I can think of no one, except my cousin, Margaret Nugent. I do not remember much of her, but my valet says that we were good friends until the last--that Miss Nugent was with me within an hour of my leaving Annesley Park.” “Excellent!” the rector said, rubbing his hands briskly together. “Now, with your permission, Sir Harold, I will run down to Ashbourne and see Miss Nugent. It is a duty you owe to her to let her know something of your true position, and if you have confidence in my tact, I will undertake to prepare her carefully, and see that no one else hears one word of the story.” Sir Harold hesitated a moment, then he said: “I am very grateful to you, Mr. Pembrose, and accept your kind offer. I clearly see that Theresa will be the better for it.”