That death-damp from his brow!"
--"THE BIRTLE TRAGEDY."

So there was no more peace in the house of sickness except to Alice,
the dying Alice.

But Mary knew nothing of the afternoon's occurrences; and gladly did
she breathe in the fresh air, as she left Miss Simmonds' house, to
hasten to the Wilsons'. The very change, from the indoor to the
outdoor atmosphere, seemed to alter the current of her thoughts.
She thought less of the dreadful subject which had so haunted her
all day; she cared less for the upbraiding speeches of her
fellow-workwomen; the old association of comfort and sympathy
received from Alice gave her the idea that, even now, her bodily
presence would soothe and compose those who were in trouble,
changed, unconscious, and absent though her spirit might be.

Then, again, she reproached herself a little for the feeling of
pleasure she experienced, in thinking that he whom she dreaded could
never more beset her path; in the security with which she could pass
each street corner--each shop, where he used to lie in ambush. Oh!
beating heart! was there no other little thought of joy lurking
within, to gladden the very air without! Was she not going to meet,
to see, to hear Jem; and could they fail at last to understand each
other's loving hearts!

She softly lifted the latch, with the privilege of friendship. HE
was not there, but his mother was standing by the fire, stirring
some little mess or other. Never mind! he would come soon: and
with an unmixed desire to do her graceful duty to all belonging to