"Good-by, Edith. I hold you innocent of my injuries. May God help you, and call us both speedily to our dreamless sleep under moss and marble." She bent down, and with firm, icy lips, lightly touched the forehead of the governess, and walked away, unheeding the burst of tears with which the frigid caress was welcomed. "And I think, in the lives of most women and men, There's a moment when all would go smooth and even, If only the dead could find out when To come back, and be forgiven." CHAPTER XXXI. "Madam, are you aware that you breathe an infected atmosphere?--that this building is assigned to small-pox cases? Pray do not cross the threshold." The superintendent of the hospital laid aside his pipe, and advanced to meet the stranger whose knock had startled him from a _post-prandial_ doze. "I am not afraid of contagion, and came to see the patient who was brought here yesterday from No. 139 Elm Street." "Have you a permit to visit here?" "Yes; you will find it on this paper, given me by the proper authorities." "What is the name of the person you desire to see?" The superintendent opened a book that lay on the table beside him, and drew his finger up and down the page. "Maurice Carlyle." "Ah, yes,--I have it now. Maurice Carlyle, Ward 3,--cot No. 7. Madam, may I ask,--" "No, sir; I have no inclination to answer idle questions. Will you show me the way, or shall I find it?" "Certainly, I will conduct you; but I was about to remark that a death has just occurred in Ward No. 3, and I am under the impression that it was the Elm Street case. Madam, you look faint; shall I bring you a glass of water?" "No. Show me the body of the dead." "This way, if you please." He walked down a dim, low-vaulted passage, and paused at the entrance of a room lined with cots, where the nurse was slowly passing from patient to patient. "Nurse, show this lady to cot No. 7." Swiftly the tall figure of the visitor glided down the room, and placing her hand on the arm of the nurse, she said huskily,-- "Where is the man who has just died? Quick! do not keep me in suspense." "There, to the right; shall I uncover the face?" Under the blue check coverlet that was spread smoothly over the cot, the stiff outlines of a human form were clearly defined; and, when the nurse stooped, the stranger put out one arm and held him back, while her whole frame trembled violently. "Stop! be good enough to leave me." The attendant withdrew a few yards, and curiously watched the queenly woman, who stood motionless, with her fingers tightly interlaced. She was dressed in a gray suit of some shining fabric, and a long gossamer veil of the same hue hung over her features. After a few seconds she swept back the veil, and, as she bent forward, a stray sunbeam dipped through the closed shutters, and flashed across a white horror-stricken face, crowned with clustering braids of silver hair.