Charlotte had promised, with her arms round his neck and her bright hair touching his silver locks. And now April had set in, and the days flew fast. All was bustle and confusion, and milliners and dressmakers worked as though there had never been a bride before, and Charlotte, too, believed there had never been so happy, so fortunate, so altogether blessed a woman as herself. One of those spring days, for the weather was particularly lovely, Mr. Harman came home earlier than usual and went to his study. For no special reason he had found it impossible to settle to any active work that morning. He had hastened home, and now taking his accustomed medicine, lay back in his armchair to rest. The medicine he had taken was partly of a sedative character, but to-day it failed in all soothing effects. That bloodhound Thought was near, and with a bound it sprang forward and settled its fangs into his heartstrings. Mr. Harman could not sit still, he rose and began to pace his room. Stay--how could he quiet this monster of remorse and reflection? Would death do it by and by? He shook his head as this idea came to him. Were death but an annihilation he could, would, how gladly, welcome it, but all his firmest convictions pointed to a God and a future. A future to him meant retribution. He found it absolutely impossible to comfort his heart with so false a doctrine as that of annihilation. In the midst of his meditations his brother Jasper entered. "Good Heavens! John, you do look bad!" he exclaimed almost involuntarily, noticing the anguish on the fine old face. "I'm a very miserable man," answered John Harman, and he sank down into a chair as he spoke. "I would not think so much about my health," said Jasper; "doctors are the most mistaken fools under the sun. I knew a man out in Australia, and the first medical man in Sydney told him he had not a week to live. He came home and made his will and bid all his relations good-by. Well, what were the consequences? The week came to an end, but not the man; my dear John, that man is alive now, and what is more, he is in the enjoyment of perfect health. The doctor was all wrong; they are mortal like ourselves, man, and by no means infallible. I would not take my death for granted, if I were you; I would determine to take out a fresh lease of life when Charlotte is married. Determination does wonders in such cases." "I am not thinking of my death," answered Mr. Harman; "were death but all, I could almost welcome it. No, it is not death, it is memory. Jasper," he added, turning fiercely on his brother, "you were as the very devil to me once, why do you come to preach such sorry comfort now?" Jasper Harman had an impenetrable face, but at these words it turned a shade pale. He went to the fire and stirred it, he put on more coal, he even arranged in a rather noisy way one or two of the chimney ornaments.