"O God!" he said. In a moment all came back to him. He remembered the summer day at Brackenhill--Sissy and he upon the terrace--the work-box upset and the thimble crushed beneath his foot. He remembered her pretty reproaches and their laughter over her enforced idleness. He remembered how he rode into Fordborough and bought that little gold thimble--the first present he ever made her. All his gifts during their brief engagement had been scrupulously returned, but this, as she had said, was given before. And she was dying with it in her hand! She had loved him from first to last. "Percival, you will take my money?" she pleaded, fearing some incomprehensible scruple. "For God's sake, Sissy! I must think a moment." He buried his face in his hands. "Oh, you are cruel!" she whispered. How could he think? Sissy loved him--had always loved him. It was all plain to him now. He had been blind, and he had come back to find out the truth the day after he had pledged himself to Judith Lisle! "Don't be unkind to me, Percival: I can't bear it, dear." How could he stab her to the heart by a refusal of that which he so sorely needed? How could he tell her of his engagement? How could he keep silence, and take her money to spend it with Judith? "Say 'Yes,' Percival. It is mine. Why not? why not?" He spoke through his clasped hands: "One moment more." "I shall never ask you anything again," she whispered. "Oh, Percival, be good to me!" He raised his head and looked earnestly at her. He must be true, happen what might. "Sissy, God knows I thank you for your goodness. I sha'n't forget it, living or dying. If only you might be spared--" "No, no. Say 'Yes,' Percival." "I will say 'Yes' if, when I have done, you wish it still. But it must be 'Yes' for some one besides myself. Dear, don't give it to me to make amends in any way. You have not wronged me, Sissy. Don't give it to me, dear, unless you give it to Judith Lisle." As he spoke he looked into her eyes. Their sweet entreaty gave place to a flash of pained reproach, as if they said "So soon?" Then the light in them wavered and went out. Percival sprang up. "Help! she has fainted!" Sarah hurried from her post by the window, and the sound of quick footsteps brought back Mrs. Middleton. The young man stood aside, dismayed. "She isn't dead?" he said in a low voice. Aunt Harriet did not heed him. A horrible moment passed, during which he felt himself a murderer. Then Sissy moaned and turned her face a little to the wall. "Go now: she cannot speak to you," said Mrs. Middleton. "I can't. Only one more word!" "What do you mean? What have you done? You may wait outside, and I will call you. She cannot bear any more now: do you want to kill her outright?"