She paused. She had been speaking rapidly, without stop or hesitation, almost without breath. Anne endeavored to soothe and calm her. "Last year, they sent me their child. He had called her Lilie. He himself, whom our unhappy name had blighted. The child was pining under the hot sun of yon strange land. I could not keep her in our desolate house. I took her to Norman's country. I was to place her with his nurse, near to his old home. When we got there, I feared to enter; I trembled to betray the secret I was burdened with. I thought a heart that he was dear to, could not fail to discover his bairn, and so I took her to a stranger. "When I left her there--you mind?--I met you, and we looked upon each other face to face: I did not need to hear the name that the blue-eyed girl by your side was saying. I knew you were Norman's sister--I felt that his spirit was within you, and that we would meet again. "Now we have met, and you know it all. The history is public now. The ban is off Norman's name--your brother and mine. I will see them again--my bird Marion--my bairn, that my own hands nurtured!" "Christian," said Anne, "for her sake, and for us all, you must rest. There are quiet days in store--tranquil days of household peace and honor. You have done your work nobly and bravely, as few could have done; for Marion's sake, who is my sister as well as yours, and for the sake of the dead, for whom you have watched so long, take rest now. Your work is over." Christian drew the curtain aside again, and gazed out upon the sea. "For him--for Marion--for Norman; for Thy mercy's sake, O, Lord! and for Thy beautiful world, which Thou hast given to calm us, I will be calm--give me now what Thou willest, and Thy rest in Thine own heaven, when Thy good time shall come." And so peacefully, in chastened hope and with gentle tears, refreshing with their milder sorrow the weary eyes that had burned in tearless agony so long, they laid the innocent shedder of blood in his quiet grave. On the evening after the funeral, Christian wandered out alone. "She goeth unto the grave to weep there," said Anne, as it was said of the Mary of the Lord's time; and she made no attempt either to detain or to accompany her. To Christian, the balm of Anne's sisterly care and sympathy was evidently very dear; but she was not wont to lean upon any mortal arm, and it was best that she should be left with her sorrow alone.