When I touched the handle of the door, it was turned from the inside. Dr. Borrow seized my hand, clasping it, not in greeting, but like one who clings for succor. He searched my face with ardently questioning look, as if I might have brought him mercy or reprieve. He saw that I had not. A spasm passed over his face. His mouth opened to speak, with voiceless effort. He motioned me to lead where he was to go. We went down-stairs, and he followed me, as I had followed Brompton, along the entry, across the yard, through the barn. He glanced towards the tree and then took his way to the shed. I did not enter with him. When he came back to me, he was very pale, but his expression was soft and tender as I had never known it. We went in again together, and stood there side by side. Brompton spoke from without. "There is one thing I have not told you, Dr. Borrow." The Doctor turned to him patiently. "There was an inquest held early this morning." Dr. Borrow lifted his hand to ward off more. "Let me take my child and go!" The Doctor looked towards Orphy. Again I had almost wronged him in my thought. "Come, my lad," he said, kindly; "you and I must take care of him home." Orphy left his place of watch. He came and stood close beside the Doctor, devoting his allegiance; tears gathered in the eyes that the soul looked through once more; the mouth retook its own pathetic smile. I knew that Harry Dudley must lie in Massachusetts ground, but I could not look my last so soon. Dr. Borrow saw my intention and prevented it. He took my hand affectionately, yet as holding me from him. "Do not come. I am better off without you. I must battle this out alone." Then, a moment after, as feeling he had amends to make,-- "You have known him a few weeks. Think what I have lost,--the child, the boy, the man! All my hopes were in him,--I did not myself know how wholly!" And beyond this anguish lay other, that he would have put off till its time, but it pressed forward. "Colvil, you are going home. You go to be consoled. What am I going to?" On the side-street, the swift tread of horses and the roll of rapid wheels. A wagon stopped before the gate. What a joy Charles Shaler's coming was to have been to us! He was prepared. He came forward erect and stern. He saluted us gravely in passing, went in and stood beside the bier. He remained gazing intently for a little time,--then, laying his hand lightly on the sacred forehead, raised his look to heaven. He came out composed as he had entered. Shaler spoke apart with Brompton, and returned to us. "You would leave this place as soon as possible?" he said to Dr. Borrow. "Yes." I had meant to combat the Doctor's desire that I should leave him,--not for my own sake, but because I thought he would need me; but I submitted now. Shaler would assume every care, and I saw that Dr. Borrow yielded himself up implicitly. * * * * *