‘I hope I know my duty towards my sister, sir, as well as you appear to have known yours to your daughter,’ returned Jerome, in a voice of some astringency; ‘and——’ They had been parting words. The deathly expression upon his father’s face alarmed him. He rang the bell, and Sister Ursula answered it. Restoratives were applied, but in vain. The flame did not flicker up again. In a very short time Jerome knew that the face upon which he looked was dead—the eternal repose had settled upon the features. Clouds and tempests were over for him; rocks and shoals of life beset the path of him who was left. He who was taken had slipped comfortably away. The pain of want, of narrow circumstances, the smarting for the sins of his fathers, had never been his, nor the joy begotten of self-abnegation—the peace that comes to one weary with a burden gallantly borne. * * * * * Jerome went into the salon again. The lamp had been lighted. Avice sat on a couch, her hands folded before her, her eyes anxiously turned towards the door. She sprang up as he came in. ‘Jerome, is he better? Has he gone to sleep?’ ‘He has gone to sleep, my love; but he will never awaken again. He died just now.’ ‘Oh! is he dead?’ She clung to him, looking up into his face, in which she saw nothing but a pale, fixed calmness. ‘Dead, Avice. And you must brace yourself up, and prepare for a trial, and that a sore one. You asked me if we were rich, dear, and I told you we had ample means. It was not true, though I did not know it. We have now either nothing, or next to nothing. You asked me if we should go back to Wellfield, and I promised that you should soon go there. I cannot keep my promise. Wellfield is no longer ours. We have no home. To-morrow I will explain. To-night I can only tell you the facts. You said that your life had been happier since you knew me. What do you say to your brother and his kindness now?’ Her eyes were eloquent as she looked up at him, and said, gravely and calmly: ‘I love my brother for trusting in me. And he shall never hear a murmur from my lips if he will continue to trust me and guide me.’ As they stood together, they kissed one another with a kind of solemnity. Life was changed, but they still remained to sustain one another. [Illustration] CHAPTER VI. AVICE READS A CHAPTER OF A NEW BOOK. There was no reason for, and no wish to linger at Ems when the necessary delay was over, and the necessary business accomplished. In a week from the time of Mr. Wellfield’s death, Jerome and his sister proposed to leave the place, on their way home. During this week, Avice lived through more surprise, more wonder, and more emotion, compressed into seven short days, than had been contained in seven long years of her former life.