“Oh, the dear! the kind! the ever-thoughtful! Oh, _my lord! my lord!_” murmured Estelle in low, inaudible, heart-broken tones, as this little instance of Lord Montressor’s ever-considerate love touched her heart. “Dear lady, you are not well! You have taken no rest and no refreshment since morning. Let me undress you; lie down and rest, while I go and order something for you.” “I cannot! Oh, I cannot, Susan!” “But Lady Montressor——” “Do not teaze me, dear girl! I can neither eat nor sleep.” “But how then will your ladyship have strength to reach the cars?” “Truly! that is well put! I thank you, Susan, for reminding me. Well, well, if I must take something, go order a cup of coffee, it will be sufficient.” “And, dear lady, won’t you lie down and sleep, while I go and have it prepared?” “Well, well, my girl, to please you I will lie down, whether I can sleep or not,” replied Lady Montressor, who then arose and permitted her maid to loosen her dress and arrange her comfortably upon the couch where she laid down, but not to _sleep!_ not even to _rest!_ There was no rest for that tempest-tost soul. Susan closed the blinds, let down the curtains, and having thus darkened the chamber, stole out to do her errand. And Lady Montressor, after many hours of excitement, found herself in the calm of solitude. Alone! but alone with her heart! alone with her Tempter! She had thought the moral struggle over, the victory won, the Tempter fled! But ah! no sooner did she find herself thus alone, than the Evil spirit, in his fairest guise, reappeared to her, beset her, arrayed before her tearless, burning eyes and bleeding heart, the loveliness of the life she was leaving, the desolation of the doom to which she was departing! Ah! how difficult, how cruel, how insupportable the duty, to turn away from native country, from home, from friends, and more than all from _him_—from _him_, and go out sorrowing, alone and exposed, into the wide, bleak, dreary, desolate world! It was like going into the “outer darkness” spoken of in the Scriptures! To go far away, out of his knowledge, and out of his reach! never again to meet his dear familiar eyes and smile! never again to hear one tone of his beloved voice! never to expect his coming or listen for his step! never to get a letter from him and never to write one! never to hear of him again in the whole course of her life!—never! never! How insufferable, while yet living, thus to die away from his knowledge, to die to him! It was like being buried alive! like going with her warm young blood, and loving heart, and thinking brain, down, down into the grave, to be smothered under the stifling clods of the earth!