"Urith!" he said, "leave him to God. Commit the matter to God. Do not take the revenging of your wrongs, real or fancied, into your own hands." She allowed him to compose her for a moment, and closed her eyes. But presently opened them again, and they were as full of fire as before. "All is to pieces," she said, "all is broken, and Anthony broke it. Look here!" she plucked at her neck, and drew forth the halved token that was suspended there. "Look, he gave me this--but it was false. He has only given me one half, he has given the other to Julian. If she comes here, I will put my hand in between the ribbon and her throat and throttle her. Then there will be three dead--Anthony and my baby and she; and I will die next. I hope I shall. I long to die." "You must not desire death, it is sinful." "But I do; I have nothing to live for. I have killed Anthony, and my baby is dead; they say it was born dead. Then I will kill Julian. Look! you shall see how I killed Anthony." Again she struggled to sit up. Luke rose from his knees, and said, peremptorily, "Lie down." She obeyed, and he laid his cool hand on her burning temples. Below could be heard Solomon Gibbs tuning his fiddle, and then playing a few snatches. Urith began to struggle under Luke's hands. "Do you hear? He is playing Anthony's song. Let him play it out and sing it also." Mrs. Penwarne went to the head of the stairs and told Mr. Gibbs the request of Urith; then he put the violin to his chin and played: An evening so clear I would that I were To kiss thy soft cheek With the faintest of air. The star that is twinkling So brightly above, I would that I were To en-lighten my love. He played very softly, and as he played the words of the song formed and passed faintly over Urith's lips. She may have recalled that evening when Anthony sang it, coming up the hill, and so was carried away from the torturing present back into a pleasant past. If I were the seas, That about the world run, I'd give thee my pearls, Not retaining of one. If I were the summer, With flowers and green, I'd garnish thy temples, And would crown thee my queen. She was quieter, lying with eyes closed, murmuring the words as Uncle Sol played in the room below. If I were a kiln, All in fervour and flame, I'd catch thee, and then be Consumed in--the--same. Luke lightly raised his hand, and put his finger to his lip. Urith was asleep. CHAPTER XLVII. IN THE HALL GARDEN.