"And then," continued Lucian, "when Mr Riddell is here, and gives me my last Communion, will you come too? I remember the Sunday we were engaged--" "Oh," said Amethyst, "all the love went away together. But now, I will--I will--" "There is Syl, across the garden," said Lucian, after a moment--"He thinks--I shall be tired. He takes such care of me, he is so good to me--now he must come and take you home. Good-bye, my dear love. God bless you! I am quite happy now." He looked up at her, and with a sudden impulse she stooped down and kissed him, and then turning her head away, and waving Sylvester back, she fled across the garden and out of sight. Lucian had covered his face with his hands, it was flushed and burning, as all that was left of life in him surged up and rebelled against the approaching hand of death. "In much pain, dear boy?" said Sylvester anxiously, after a minute. "More--more than I knew," said Lucian, with panting breath, then, with a look which Sylvester never forgot, he whispered--"But it's quite right,--Syl." By and by, when he was able to leave Lucian, Sylvester went out on to the hill-side under silvery olive woods, and over broken ground covered with rosemary and thyme. The sun was bright, and the sea pure, clear blue beneath it. He thought that he had come to seek solitude and silence; but, when he saw Amethyst coming towards him, he knew that he had been really in search of her. She came up to him, and stood by his side, and they looked into each other's faces. "It did not hurt him?" she said presently in a trembling voice. "Oh, no, he will be more at rest now." "Oh," said Amethyst, with a fresh burst of tears, "oh--I am so sorry--so sorry for him! Oh--I think I'd die, if he could get well and be happy." They were passionate words; but her tone and look lifted the dread from Sylvester's heart. It was for Lucian, not for herself, that she was weeping. "One cannot dare to wish, for such as he," he said. "But I was so cruel to him, when he came back, in London. I hurt him more than I need. Oh, I have been a wicked girl, always trying to get something for myself, to make up for having been ill-treated! I despised every one. I despised him. Oh, I've had a lump of ice instead of a heart, I hate myself for it!" "But now the ice has melted?" "Yes," said Amethyst, with childish directness, "I am sorry now." They walked on slowly, side by side. Words were difficult; but a great peace came over them both. "Do you think," said Amethyst, presently, "is he worse? It will not be very soon, will it?" "I don't know," said Sylvester. "He is much weaker than he was. I am glad my father is coming next week. Poor Lucy was meant for living! But he does suffer frightfully, night and day. I shall not leave him--I have arranged for that--and I couldn't possibly go away now." "He likes to have you."