But she treated the relics of Basil's mind with no such tenderness. She lifted one of the packages of manuscript in her hands. She was not mad or wicked, poor Mary Alcestis, she was only devoted to what was seemly and right. This was a duty which she owed Basil, a duty which she should have performed long ago. Persons changed their opinions as they grew older and he, could he have survived, would have come to regret those stories of love and crime and hate which he had written, which would now so cruelly reveal his soul. Had not Mr. Utterly confirmed all her own convictions on this point? Loving Basil, she would do exactly as she knew he would wish her to do! She would do it quickly. Certain remarks of Dr. Lister's in other connections made her fear that he would be not upon her side and that of Basil's good, but upon the side of Basil's youth. Standing tall, loosely wrapped in her long robe, she looked for once in her life heroic, like a sybil or prophetess. Her hands grasped the paper and she tried to tear the whole across. But the paper was still tough in spite of its age and she had to lay the package down and take a few sheets at a time. The slow process made her nervous; it seemed hours since she had come into the room. She tore the half-dozen sheets across, then dropped them into the pitcher on the little washstand. When she had finished she would carry them downstairs. 'Manda had a good fire at this time of day. She lifted six other sheets and tore them across. She remembered dimly the story of the manuscript of some famous and important book accidentally fed day after day to the fire. But that was a great work of philosophy or history or theology, it was not anything like poor Basil's stories! She saw as she proceeded a few clear words, "Hunger knows no niceties and passion no laws," and she shuddered. They could not too soon perish, these utterances of Basil's sad, uncontrolled youth! Suddenly she began to feel faint. She remembered again the story of the bride locked into the great chest. But that was nonsense! Dr. Lister would soon find her. Was he not coming, did she not hear steps, a voice, did she not feel--not a hand touching her--but a breath upon her cheek? Thomasina had said--what was it Thomasina had said? She pushed the drawer shut, all but a crack, then she moved slowly and with dignity toward Basil's bed. She would lie down and after a little rest strength would return. Then she would go on, tearing the papers into finer and ever finer bits. CHAPTER XX BASIL'S ROOM HAS A NEW VISITOR Dr. Lister read the "Times" and "Public Opinion" until he heard 'Manda setting the dinner-table. Then he folded his papers, glanced out through the pleasant medium of dim green light under his awning, raised his arms above his head in a motion which relieved cramped muscles, yawned, and wondered about Mary Alcestis. Reproaching himself because he had not gone directly to her side when he came in, he went upstairs.