When the time came at which Madeleine was to be removed to her bed, Ronald and Wilmot took leave; the first for the night, the second to return an hour later, and give final instructions to the nurse. Wilmot's left hand hung down by his side as he stood near her, and Madeleine touched a ring upon his little finger. "What is the motto on that ring?" she asked. "The untranslateable French phrase, which I always think is like a shrug in words: _Quand même_," he replied. The ring was the seal-ring which his wife had been used to wear. It struck him with a new and piercing pain, amid all the pains of this dreadful day, that Madeleine should have noticed it, and reminded him of it then. "_Quand même_," she said softly. "Notwithstanding, even so--ah, it can't be said in English, but it means the same in every tongue." He bent over her, no one was near, her eyes met his; she said, "I am very happy--very happy, _Quand même!_" * * * * * Wilmot went home and sat down to think--to think over the words he had spoken and heard. He was overpowered with the fatigue, the excitement, the emotion of the day. A thousand confused images floated before his weary eyes; the room seemed full of phantoms. Was this illness? Could it be possible? No, that must not be; he could not be ill; he had not time. After--yes, after, illness--anything! but not yet. He called for wine and bread, and ate and drank. His thoughts became clearer, and arranged themselves; then he became absorbed in reflection. He had told his servant he should require the carriage in an hour, and, hearing a noise in the hall, he started up, thinking the time had come. He opened his study-door, and called-- "Is that the brougham, Stephen?" "No, sir," said the man, presenting himself with an air of having something important to say. "What is it, then?" said Wilmot impatiently. "A messenger from Brook-street, sir; Captain Kilsyth's man, sir." Wilmot went out into the hall. The man was there, looking pale and frightened. "What is it, Martin? what is it?" "Captain Kilsyth sent me, sir, to let you know that Mrs. Caird is dead, sir,--a few minutes after you left, sir. Went off like a lamb. They didn't know it, sir; till the nurse came to lift her into bed." CHAPTER XIV. Forlorn.