"No; I will not," was the reply which burst forth in accents, which, if there were aught of human in her mould, must have shook her very soul to its centre; "you are not wanted here; you have done enough--you have helped to kill her; what can you desire more? Begone!--tempt me not to call down the curse of Heaven upon ..." "Eustace--Eustace--this is folly; this is madness!" said a voice behind him; and the fearful words were stayed on Eustace's lips, when he looked up, and beheld his brother. Eugene Trevor, looking very pale and ill himself, came forward, and with a glance at Marryott took his brother's arm, and led him back through the chamber of death into the boudoir beyond, closing the door behind them. "Good heavens! Eustace, how ill you look! You must not give way in that manner--it is weak, it is unmanly. This has been a blow to us all; but you know it was not altogether unexpected. Her health has long been failing." But his brother did not heed him. He had lain his head down upon a table near the seat on which he sunk. Those cold, inadequate words did not touch his deep fathomless grief. But still, the sight and presence of one whom, she at least had loved, seemed to have some effect in soothing the passionate excitement of misery into which the sight of her she had every reason to abhor, had worked him. He forgot even at the time to think how ill that love had been requited, and scalding tears, "The very weakness of the brain, Which still confessed without relieving pain," were trickling from his burning eye-balls, when again he raised his face, and turned it towards his brother. "Eugene, who was with her?" he asked, while at the same time he murmured: "Not that woman?" "No--I think not; it was so sudden at the last, that I believe, not even her maid knew of it till she came into her room in the morning. The doctor says it was paralysis of the heart." "Yes--yes, I see; deserted, neglected, even in the hour of death!" "I saw her the night before, before going to bed," rejoined the other, without noticing this interruption. "She seemed pretty well then, but did not notice me much--she only asked for you;" and there was something of sullen bitterness in the tone of voice in which these words were uttered. His listener groaned. "And why was I not sent for--_why_?" he repeated with agonized emphasis. "Oh, need I ask that question?" "I told you, that to the last she was not considered in danger," continued the other with some impatience; "of course, there could have been no motive."