” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. You have neither reason nor logic. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. ‘Gerald had to change both shirt and breeches. " But the doctor softened the refusal by smiling. ‘Come,’ she called. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy.
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