"No, no. I've no hope of happiness in this world or the next. I only wanted to see you once more. You can go away now." "I would not leave a stranger to die alone in a strange land; and I will not leave you till some one comes to your assistance." Her voice, from the effort she was making to keep calm, sounded cold and constrained. "I have brought food," she added, "Will you have some?" He immediately stretched out his bony hand eagerly. Ina few moments steps were heard on the stairs; and Edward went hastily forward, detaining the physician for whom he had sent, to explain that a countryman had called for aid, and that he would pay for every attention shown him. It was a late hour before Gertrude could be persuaded to leave, and then only to take a few hours rest, before she made hurried preparations for the sick man to be removed to her villa. The physician had told her, Paul had but a few weeks to live; and she had persuaded her brother to allow him to die under their own roof. One sight of that haggard face, upon which vice and poverty had left their mark, had dissipated forever all hope of a reunion in this life, though she earnestly prayed they might spend an eternity together in heaven. But she felt that God had given her a work to do; and in order to accomplish it she must have the dying man where she could readily gain access to him. "My dream is over," she said to her brother. "The first shock was when you suggested that he might have married again; an idea which never had occurred to me. Then when I saw the seal crime had stamped on his once handsome face, I realized that he is not the Paul to whom I had given my heart. But he has a precious soul to be saved; and for that I must labor while he has life." "You shall have all the help that I can give," was his reply, more relieved by her words than she could well imagine; "and may God bless our endeavors." Early in the forenoon Edward went out to make arrangements for Paul's removal. It was three hours before he returned, and Gertrude had grown very impatient. When the carriage stopped at the door, she started to go forward; but her brother motioned her back, saying: "The exertion has been too much for the poor fellow; and he has fainted. You must wait till he has had time to rest." The physician had accompanied his patient, wishing every sick foreigner might find such friends. He prescribed perfect quiet for the rest of the day, adding, "Mr. Dudley is so weak the least excitement may prove fatal." This was very trying to Mrs. Wallingford, who yearned to commence her work. She comforted herself by returning to her closet and besieging the throne of grace in his behalf. The next morning Edward reported that the medicine, proper food and quiet, had produced a most happy result. He had enjoyed some hours of refreshing sleep; and was now partaking of a bountiful breakfast his nurse had prepared. CHAPTER XVIII. THE EFFECTS OF CRIME.