We had thought to spend the evening alone, but a strange chance, not without sad significance, brought us an unexpected visitor; the Reverend Morton Smalley called, for once unaccompanied by Mr. Trim. He was more gentle and charming than ever. He expressed himself very sorry not to see Cornelius, whom he evidently thought absent on some laborious errand, for looking at Kate in his benignant way over his spotless neckcloth and through his bright gold spectacles, he earnestly begged "she would not allow her brother to work so very hard." She shook her head and smiled a little sadly. "I fear Art absorbs him completely," gravely said Mr. Smalley. "Oh dear no!" sighed Kate. "We were never intended to lead a purely intellectual life," continued our guest, bending slightly forward, and raising his fore-finger with mild conviction, "and I fear your brother, Ma'am, is too much given to what I may venture to term the abstract portion of life: life has very lovely and tender realities." Kate poked the fire impatiently. "And then he works too hard," pensively continued Mr. Smalley, returning to his old idea that Cornelius was engaged on some arduous task: "why not give himself one evening's relaxation?" I sat apart on a low stool, unheeded and silent; I know not what impulse made me look up in the face of our guest and say earnestly-- "Cornelius is gone to see Miss Miriam." Mr. Smalley started like a man who has received an electric shock. He looked at me, at Kate; her face gave sorrowful confirmation of all he could suspect and dread. He said not a word, but turned very pale. "Mr. Smalley," said Kate, "have a glass of wine." He did not answer, he had not heard her; like one in a troubled dream, he passed his handkerchief across his moist brow and trembling lips. He made an effort to look more composed, as Kate handed him the glass of wine which she had poured out. He took it from her, smiled a faint ghastly smile, and said-- "I wish our friend every happiness." But he could not drink his own pledge. He raised the glass to his lips, laid it down as if it were poison, rose, pressed the hand of Miss O'Reilly, and left us abruptly. "Daisy," severely said Kate, "go up to your room." I obeyed, to spend another wretched night, not sleepless, but feverish dreams and sudden wakenings. I did not go near Cornelius on the following day. Of this he took no notice, and again went out in the evening. I saw him depart with a sharp jealous pang. Ere long we heard him laughing next door. "Just listen to him!" said Kate, smiling, "is he not enjoying himself! God bless him! that boy always had a gay laugh. Ah! many's the time, when, though I scarcely knew how to provide for the morrow, that laugh has made my heart light and hopeful--God bless him!"