It was no fiction of the lips, and Richard knew it, as her voice grew weaker, and she seemed to droop. The mark was upon her face, telling that she was one of those soon to fall. Her pitiful appeal went to his heart; and raising her in his arms, he pillowed her head upon his shoulder, and kissed her quivering, pallid lips, as in a voice broken with emotion he muttered in the familiar old scriptural words-- "God do so to me, and more also, my poor stricken lamb, if I do not try and smooth your poor, thorny path." Once, and once only, did her poor, thin lips respond to his caress. Then, her transparent, white hand was passed lightly over his forehead; her eyes closed, and with a faint sigh of content, she lay quite still, her fluttering breath telling, at the end of a few minutes, that she had, thoroughly exhausted, fallen asleep. Volume 3, Chapter XIII. WAITING FOR NEWS. The weeks went on, and glided into months. Frank Pratt had been as punctual as the clock in his visits to Russell Square, but his love matters made no progress. Unless he had something to communicate affecting Tiny, Fin would hardly stay a minute. Then, too, at times, there were checks caused by the presence of Aunt Matty, when Pratt would return to his chambers disconsolate, and yet happy at having had a glimpse of the darling of his heart. Once, when he had entered strongly into his affairs, and spoke of trying to renew his acquaintance in a straightforward way with the family-- "Because I should not be ashamed to meet Sir Hampton now," he said. Fin responded coolly-- "I'm afraid I hate you very much, Mr Pratt." "Hate me! Why?" he exclaimed. "Because you're so unfeeling." "Unfeeling?" "You think so much of yourself, and your silly love nonsense, when poor Tiny is persecuted and tortured by that hateful Vanleigh, who only wants her money. I believe he'd ill-treat her before they'd been married a month. He looks like a wife-beater." "But they never persecute you," said Pratt. "Don't they? Why, only this morning pa told me that he should expect me to receive Sir Felix Landells; while ma cried, and Aunt Matty nodded her head approvingly." "And--and what did you say?" cried Pratt. "I gave Pepine a vicious kick, and walked out of the room. And now, sir, if you please, how about all your fine promises? What have you done all these months? Have you got that wicked wretch Trevor back his property? Come, speak!" "No," said Pratt, "I went down on Tuesday to see how things were, and Master Humphrey seems settling down comfortably enough. Quite the country squire." "Serve Richard Trevor right," said Fin. "And now, about that girl? Does he go to see her still?" Pratt was silent. "How dare you stand there like that, Frank, and not answer me?" cried Fin. "Call me Frank again, darling, and I'll say anything you wish." "I won't," said Fin. "You shall tell me without." "I don't like telling tales about poor Dick," said Pratt.