Herbert had sunk on his knees beside her couch; he drooped his head upon his hands, and a strong convulsion shook his frame.  He uttered no sound, he spoke no word, but Mary could read the overwhelming anguish that bowed his spirit to the earth.  The words were spoken; he knew that she must die, and Mary raised her mild eyes to heaven, and clasped her hands in earnest prayer for him.  “Forsake him not now, oh God; support him now; oh, give him strength to meet Thy will,” was the import of her prayer.  Long was that deep, deep stillness, but when Herbert looked up again he was calm.

“May God in heaven bless you, my beloved,” he said, and imprinted a long fervent kiss upon her forehead.  “You have taught me my Saviour’s will, and I will meet it.  May He forgive—­” His words failed him; again he held her to his heart, and then he sat by her side and read from the Book of Life, of peace, of comfort, those passages which might calm this anguish and strengthen her; he read till sleep closed the eyes of his beloved.  Yes, she was the idol of his young affections; he felt her words were true, and when she was gone there would be naught to bind his spirit to this world.

It would be needless to lift the veil from Herbert’s moments of solitary prayer.  Those who have followed him through his boyhood and traced his character need no description of his feelings.  We know the intensity of his earthly affections, the strength and force of his every emotion, the depth and holiness of his spiritual sentiments, and vain then would be the attempt to portray his private moments in this dread trial:  yet before his family he was calm, before his Mary cheerful.  She felt her prayers were heard, he was, he would be yet more supported, and her last pang was soothed.

Mr. Hamilton had returned from France, unsuccessful, however, in his wish to obtain the restitution of Greville’s papers.  Dupont had concealed his measures so artfully, and with such efficacy, that no traces were discovered regarding him, and Mr. Hamilton felt it was no use to remain himself, confident in the integrity and abilities of the solicitor to whom he had intrusted the whole affair; he was unaccompanied, however, by Percy, who, as his sister’s wedding was, from Mary’s illness, postponed, determined on paying Lord and Lady St. Eval a visit at Geneva.

As Emmeline’s engagement with Arthur very frequently engrossed her time, Ellen had devoted herself assiduously as Mary’s constant nurse, and well and tenderly she performed her office.  There was no selfishness in her feelings, deeply, unfeignedly she sorrowed, and willingly, gladly would she have laid down her life to preserve Mary’s, that this fearful trial might be removed from Herbert.  To spare him one pang, oh, what would she not have endured.  Controlled and calm, who could have guessed the chaos of contending feeling that was passing within; who, that had seen the gentle smile with which she would receive Herbert’s