But of course what made them so different to me, was”--here Helen did burst into tears, but she fought with her sobs, and went on--“was--was--that my heart is breaking for you, Poldie--for I shall never see you smile again, my darling!” She buried her face on his pillow, and Leopold uttered “a great and exceeding bitter cry.” Her hand was on his mouth instantly, and her sobs ceased, while the tears kept flowing down her white face. “Just think, Poldie,” she said, in a voice which she seemed to have borrowed in her need from some one else, “--just think a moment! What if there should be some help in the great wide universe--somewhere, for as wide as it is--a heart that feels for us both, as my heart feels for you, Poldie! Oh! oh! wouldn’t it be grand? Wouldn’t it be lovely to be at peace again, Poldie? If there should be somebody somewhere who could take this gnawing serpent from my heart!”--She pulled wildly at her dress.--“‘Come unto me,’ he said, ‘all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ That’s what he said:--oh! if it could be true!” “Surely it is--for you, best of sisters,” cried Leopold; “but what has it to do with me? Nothing. She is DEAD--I killed her. Even if God were to raise her to life again, HE could not make it that I didn’t drive the knife into her heart! Give ME rest!--why there’s the hand that did it! O my God! my God!” cried the poor youth, and stared at his thin wasted hand, through which the light shone red, as at a conscious evil thing that had done the deed, and was still stained with its signs. “God CAN’T be very angry with you, Poldie,” sobbed Helen, feeling about blindly in the dark forest of her thoughts for some herb of comfort, and offering any leaf upon which her hand fell first. “Then he ain’t fit to be God!” cried Leopold fiercely. “I wouldn’t have a word to say to a God that didn’t cut a man in pieces for such a deed! Oh Helen, she was so lovely!--and what is she now?” “Surely if there were a God, he would do something to set it right somehow! I know if I was God, Poldie, I should find some way of setting you up again, my darling. You ain’t half as bad as you make yourself out.” “You had better tell that to the jury, Helen, and see how they will take it,” said Leopold contemptuously. “The jury!” Helen almost screamed. “What do you mean, Poldie?” “Well!” returned Leopold, in a tone of justification, but made no further answer to her question. “All God can do to set it right,” he resumed, after a pause, “is to damn me for ever and ever, as one of the blackest creatures in creation.” “THAT I don’t believe, anyhow!” returned Helen with equal vehemence and indefiniteness.