She shook her head. “That is impossible. The only consolation I can have is to stay with you and give you what little help I can. You could not live without me, Lawrence. Don’t speak of it. I shall stand by you.” She opened the shutters and the window, and let the fresh morning light into the close room and over their feverish faces. The town was waking up to a bright sunshiny day, its many smokes curling upward into the blue, its beautiful vesture of snow still clinging here and there, all its busy life beginning to stir joyfully again. They stood before the window a minute looking out, the same thought in both their minds. Then the wife leaned forward. “Good‐by, Crichton!” she said, and took her husband’s hand. “Come, Lawrence! we have no time to lose. The sword has been set over the gate.” To Be Continued. A Looker‐Back. III. The Temple. “Those bricky towers, The which on Themme’s brode aged back do ride, Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers: There whilom wont the Templar Knights to bide.” Perhaps there is no place in London that appeals to so many instincts of the soul as the Temple. Religion, valor, romance, and literature have all lent enchantment to the place. Built and inhabited by the Knights Templars, the resort of kings and nobles of highest lineage, the home of generations of law‐students and literary men like Burke, Johnson, Goldsmith, and Lamb, and associated with Shakespeare and many a romance, who could enter its quiet alleys, and ramble about its courts and gardens, without being stirred to the depths of his soul? Fact and fiction are here so mingled together that one is unable to disentangle them, and the visitor says, as he roams about: Here was the place of Lamb’s “kindly engendure”; yonder Eldon lived; up in that third story was Arthur Pendennis’ sick‐chamber, where his mother and Laura went to nurse him; in that court were Goldsmith’s chambers, where he loved to sit and watch the rooks; and in those gardens walked Sir Roger de Coverley, discussing the belles, with patches and hoops, strolling across the green once used by the Red‐Cross Knights for martial exercises; and yonder is the ancient church, patterned after that of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem.