THE servant left them together. Mercy spoke first.

"Mr. Gray!" she exclaimed, "why have you delayed my message? Ifyou knew all, you would know that it is far from being a kindnessto me to keep me in this house."

He advanced closer to her--surprised by her words, alarmed by herlooks.

"Has any one been here in my absence?" he asked.

"Lady Janet has been here in your absence. I can't speak ofit--my heart feels crushed--I can bear no more. Let me go!"

Briefly as she had replied, she had said enough. Julian'sknowledge of Lady Janet's character told him what had happened.His face showed plainly that he was disappointed as well asdistressed.

"I had hoped to have been with you when you and my aunt met, andto have prevented this," he said. "Believe me, she will atone forall that she may have harshly and hastily done when she has hadtime to think. Try not to regret it, if she has made your hardsacrifice harder still. She has only raised you the higher--shehas additionally ennobled you and endeared you in my estimation.Forgive me if I own this in plain words. I cannot controlmyself--I feel too strongly."

At other timesMercy might have heard the coming avowal in his tones, mighthave discovered it in his eyes. As it was, her delicate insightwas dulled, her fine perception was blunted. She held out herhand to him, feeling a vague conviction that he was kinder to herthan ever--and feeling no more.

"I must thank you for the last time," she said. "As long as lifeis left, my gratitude will be a part of my life. Let me go. WhileI can still control myself, let me go!"

She tried to leave him, and ring the bell. He held her handfirmly, and drew her closer to him.

"To the Refuge?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Home again!"

"Don't say that!" he exclaimed. "I can't bear to hear it. Don'tcall the Refuge your home!"

"What else is it? Where else can I go?"

"I have come here to tell you. I said, if you remember, I hadsomething to propose."

She felt the fervent pressure of his hand; she saw the mountingenthusiasm flashing in his eyes. Her weary mind roused itself alittle. She began to tremble under the electric influence of histouch.

"Something to propose?" she repeated, "What is there to propose?"

"Let me ask you a question on my side. What have you doneto-day?"

"You know what I have done: it is your work," she answered,humbly. "Why return to it now?"

"I return to it for the last time; I return to it with a purposewhich you will soon understand. You have abandoned your marriageengagement; you have forfeited Lady Janet's love; you have ruinedall your worldly prospects; you are now returning, self-devoted,to a life which you have yourself described as a life withouthope. And all this you have done of your own free-will--at a timewhen you are absolutely secure of your position in the house--forthe sake of speaking the truth. Now tell me, is a woman who canmake that sacrifice a woman who will prove unworthy of the trustif a man places in her keeping his honor and his name?"

She understood him at last. She broke away from him with a cry.She stood with her hands clasped, trembling and looking at him.

He gave her no time to think. The words poured from his lipswithout conscious will or conscious effort of his own.

"Mercy, from the first moment when I saw you I loved you! You arefree; I may own it; I may ask you to be my wife!"

She drew back from him further and further, with a wild imploringgesture of her hand.

"No! no!" she cried. "Think of what you are saying! think of whatyou would sacrifice! It cannot, must not be."

His face darkened with a sudden dread. His head fell on hisbreast. His voice sank so low that she could barely hear it.

"I had forgotten something," he said. "You've reminded me of it."

She ventured back a little nearer to him. "Have I offended you?"

He smiled sadly. "You have enlightened me. I had forgotten thatit doesn't follow, because I love you, that you should love me inreturn. Say that it is so, Mercy, and I leave you."

A faint tinge of color rose on her face--then left it again palerthan ever. Her eyes looked downward timidly under the eager gazethat he fastened on her.

"How _can_ I say so?" she answered, simply. Where is the woman inmy place whose heart could resist you?"

He eagerly advanced; he held out his arms to her in breathless,speechless joy. She drew back from him once more with a look thathorrified him--a look of blank despair.

"Am I fit to be your wife?" she asked. ''Must I remind you ofwhat you owe to your high position, your spotless integrity, yourfamous name? Think of all that you have done for me, and thenthink of the black ingratitude of it if I ruin you for life byconsenting to our marriage--if I selfishly, cruelly, wickedly,drag you down to the level of a woman like me!"

"I raise you to _my_ level when I make you my wife," he answered."For Heaven's sake do me justice! Don't refer me to the world andits opinions. It rests with you, and you alone, to make themisery or the happiness of my life. The world! Good God! what canthe world give me in exchange for You?'

She clasped her hands imploringly; the tears flowed fast over hercheeks.

"Oh, have pity on my weakness!" she cried. "Kindest, best of men,help me to do my hard duty toward you! It is so hard, after allthat I have suffered--when my heart is yearning for peace andhappiness and love!" She checked herself, shuddering at the wordsthat had escaped her. "Remember how Mr. Holmcroft has used me!Remember how Lady Janet has left me! Remember what I have toldyou of my life! The scorn of every creature you know would strikeat you through me. No! no! no! Not a word more. Spare me! pityme! leave me!"

Her voice failed her; sobs choked her utterance. He sprang to herand took her in his arms. She was incapable of resisting him; butthere was no yielding in her. Her head lay on his bosom,passive--horribly passive, like the head of a corpse.

"Mercy! My darling! We will go away--we will leave England--wewill take refuge among new people in a new world--I will changemy name--I will break with relatives, friends, everybody.Anything, anything, rather than lose you!"

She lifted her head slowly and looked at him.

He suddenly released her; he reeled back like a man staggered bya blow, and dropped into a chair. Before she had uttered a wordhe saw the terrible resolution in her face--Death, rather thanyield to her own weakness and disgrace him.

She stood with her hands lightly clasped in front of her. Hergrand head was raised; her soft gray eyes shone again undimmed bytears. The storm of emotion had swept over her and had passedaway A sad tranquillity was in her face; a gentle resignation wasin her voice. The calm of a martyr was the calm that confrontedhim as she spoke her last words.

"A woman who has lived my life, a woman who has suffered what Ihave suffered, may love you--as _I_ love you--but she must not beyour wife. _That_ place is too high above her. Any other place istoo far below her and below you." She paused, and advancing tothe bell, gave the signal for her departure. That done, sheslowly retraced her steps until she stood at Julian's side.

Tenderly she lifted his head and laid it for a moment on herbosom. Silently she stooped and touched his forehead with herlips. All the gratitude that filled her heart and all thesacrifice that rent it were in those two actions--so modestly, sotenderly performed! As the last lingering pressure of her fingersleft him, Julian burst into tears.

The servant answered the bell. At the moment he opened the door awoman's voice was audible in the hall speaking to him.

"Let the child go in," the voice said. "I will wait here."

The child appeared--the same forlorn little creature who hadreminded Mercy of her own early years on the day when she andHorace Holmcroft had been out for their walk.

There was no beauty in this child; no halo of romance brightenedthe commonplace horror of her story. She came cringing into theroom, staring stupidly at the magnificence all round her--thedaughter of the London streets! the pet creation of the laws ofpolitical economy! the savage and terrible product of a worn-outsystem of government and of a civilization rotten to its core!Cleaned for the first time in her life, fed sufficiently for thefirst time in her life, dressed in clothes instead of rags forthe first time in her life, Mercy's sister in adversity creptfearfully over the beautiful carpet, and stopped wonder-struckbefore the marbles of an inlaid table--a blot of mud on thesplendor of the room.

Mercy turned from Julian to meet the child. The woman's heart,hungering in its horrible isolation for something that it mightharmlessly love, welcomed the rescued waif of the streets as aconsolation sent from God. She caught the stupefied littlecreature up in her arms. "Kiss me!" she whispered, in thereckless agony of the moment. "Call me sister!" The child stared,vacantly. Sister meant nothing to her mind but an older girl whowas strong enough to beat her.

She put the child down again, and turned for a last look at theman whose happiness she had wrecked-- in pity to _him_.

He had never moved. His head was down; his face was hidden. Shewent back to hi m a few steps.

"The others have gone from me without one kind word. Can _you_forgive me?"

He held out his hand to her without looking up. Sorely as she hadwounded him, his generous nature understood her. True to her fromthe first, _he_ was true to her still.

"God bless and comfort you," he said, in broken tones. "The earthholds no nobler woman than you."

She knelt and kissed the kind hand that pressed hers for the lasttime. "It doesn't end with this world," she whispered: "there isa better world to come!" Then she rose, and went back to thechild. Hand in hand the two citizens of the Government ofGod--outcasts of the government of Man--passed slowly down thelength of the room. Then out into the hall. Then out into thenight. The heavy clang of the closing door tolled the knell oftheir departure. They were gone.

But the orderly routine of the house--inexorable asdeath--pursued its appointed course. As the clock struck the hourthe dinner-bell rang. An interval of a minute passed, and markedthe limit of delay. The butler appeared at the dining-room door.

"Dinner is served, sir."

Julian looked up. The empty room met his eyes. Something whitelay on the carpet close by him. It was her handkerchief--wet withher tears. He took it up and pressed it to his lips. Was that tobe the last of her? Had she left him forever?

The native energy of the man, arming itself with all the might ofhis love, kindled in him again. No! While life was in him, whiletime was before him, there was the hope of winning her yet!

He turned to the servant, reckless of what his face might betray.

"Where is Lady Janet?"

"In the dining-room, sir."

He reflected for a moment. His own influence had failed. Throughwhat other influence could he now hope to reach her? As thequestion crossed his mind the light broke on him. He saw the wayback to her--through the influence of Lady Janet.

"Her ladyship is waiting, sir."

Julian entered the dining-room.

EPILOGUE:

CONTAINING SELECTIONS FROM THE CORRESPONDENCE OF MISS GRACEROSEBERRY AND MR. HORACE HOLMCROFT; TO WHICH ARE ADDED EXTRACTSFROM THE DIARY OF THE REVEREND JULIAN GRAY.

I.

From MR. HORACE HOLMCROFT to MISS GRACE ROSEBERRY.

"I HASTEN to thank you, dear Miss Roseberry, for your last kindletter, received by yesterday's mail from Canada. Believe me, Iappreciate your generous readiness to pardon and forget what I sorudely said to you at a time when the arts of an adventuress hadblinded me to the truth. In the grace which has forgiven me Irecognize the inbred sense of justice of a true lady. Birth andbreeding can never fail to assert themselves: I believe in them,thank God, more firmly than ever.

"You ask me to keep you informed of the progress of Julian Gray'sinfatuation, and of the course of conduct pursued toward him byMercy Merrick.

"If you had not favored me by explaining your object, I mighthave felt some surprise at receiving from a lady in your positionsuch a request as this. But the motives by which you describeyourself as being actuated are beyond dispute. The existence ofSociety, as you truly say, is threatened by the presentlamentable prevalence of Liberal ideas throughout the length andbreadth of the land. We can only hope to protect ourselvesagainst impostors interested in gaining a position among personsof our rank by becoming in some sort (unpleasant as it may be)familiar with the arts by which imposture too frequentlysucceeds. If we wish to know to what daring lengths cunning cango, to what pitiable self-delusion credulity can consent, we mustwatch the proceedings--even while we shrink from them--of a MercyMerrick and a Julian Gray.

"In taking up my narrative again where my last letter left off, Imust venture to set you right on one point.

"Certain expressions which have escaped your pen suggest to methat you blame Julian Gray as the cause of Lady Janet'sregrettable visit to the Refuge the day after Mercy Merrick hadleft her house. This is not quite correct. Julian, as you willpresently see, has enough to answer for without being heldresponsible for errors of judgment in which he has had no share.Lady Janet (as she herself told me) went to the Refuge of her ownfree-will to ask Mercy Merrick's pardon for the language whichshe had used on the previous day. 'I passed a night of suchmisery as no words can describe'--this, I assure you, is what herladyship really said to me--'thinking over what my vile pride andselfishness and obstinacy had made me say and do. I would havegone down on my knees to beg her pardon if she would have let me.My first happy moment was when I won her consent to come andvisit me sometimes at Mablethorpe House.'

"You will, I am sure, agree with me that such extravagance asthis is to be pitied rather than blamed. How sad to see the decayof the faculties with advancing age! It is a matter of graveanxiety to consider how much longer poor Lady Janet can betrusted to manage her own affairs. I shall take an opportunity oftouching on the matter delicately when I next see her lawyer.

"I am straying from my subject. And--is it not strange?--I amwriting to you as confidentially as if we were old friends

"To return to Julian Gray. Innocent of instigating his aunt'sfirst visit to the Refuge, he is guilty of having induced her togo there for the second time the day after I had dispatched mylast letter to you. Lady Janet's object on this occasion wasneither more nor less than to plead her nephew's cause as humblesuitor for the hand of Mercy Merrick. Imagine the descent of oneof the oldest families in England inviting an adventuress in aRefuge to honor a clergyman of the Church of England by becominghis wife! In what times do we live! My dear mother shed tears ofshame when she heard of it. How you would love and admire mymother!

"I dined at Mablethorpe House, by previous appointment, on theday when Lady Janet returned from her degrading errand.

"'Well?' I said, waiting, of course, until the servant was out ofthe room.

"'Well,' Lady Janet answered, 'Julian was quite right.'

"'Quite right in what?'

"'In saying that the earth holds no nobler woman than MercyMerrick.'

"'Has she refused him again?'

"'She has refused him again.'

"'Thank God!' I felt it fervently, and I said it fervently. LadyJanet laid down her knife and fork, and fixed one of her fiercelooks on me.

"'It may not be your fault, Horace,' she said, 'if your nature isincapable of comprehending what is great and generous in othernatures higher than yours. But the least you can do is todistrust your own capacity of appreciation. For the future keepyour opinions (on questions which you don't understand) modestlyto yourself. I have a tenderness for you for your father's sake;and I take the most favorable view of your conduct toward MercyMerrick. I humanely consider it the conduct of a fool.' (Her ownwords, Miss Roseberry. I assure you once more, her own words.)'But don't trespass too far on my indulgence--don't insinuateagain that a woman who is good enough (if she died this night) togo to heaven, is _not_ good enough to be my nephew's wife.'

"I expressed to you my conviction a little way back that it wasdoubtful whether poor Lady Janet would be much longer competentto manage her own affairs. Perhaps you thought me hasty then?What do you think now?

"It was, of course, useless to reply seriously to theextraordinary reprimand that I had received. Besides, I wasreally shocked by a decay of principle which proceeded but tooplainly from decay of the mental powers. I made a soothing andrespectful reply, and I was favored in return with some accountof what had really happened at the Refuge. My mother and mysisters were disgusted when I repeated the particulars to them.You will be disgusted too.

"The interesting penitent (expecting Lady Janet's visit) was, ofcourse, discovered in a touching domestic position! She had afoundling baby asleep on her lap; and she was teaching thealphabet to an ugly little vagabond girl whose acquaintance shehad first made in the street. Just the sort of artful _tableauvivant_ to impose on an old lady --was it not?

"You will understand what followed, when Lady Janet opened hermatrimonial negotiation. Having perfected herself in her part,Mercy Merrick, to do her justice, was not the woman to play itbadly. The most magnanimous sentiments flowed from her lips. Shedeclared that her future life was devoted to acts of charity,typified, of course, by the foundling infant and the ugly littlegirl. However she might personally suffer, whatever might be thesacrifice of her own feelings--observe how artfully this was put,to insinuate that she was herself in love with him!--she couldnot accept from Mr. Julian Gray an honor of which she wasunworthy. Her gratitude to him and her interest in him alikeforbade her to compromise his brilliant future by consenting to amarriage which would degrade him in the estimation of all hisfriends. She thanked him (with tears); she thanked Lady Janet(with more tears); but she dare not, in the interests of _his_honor and _his_ happiness, accept the hand that he offered toher. God bless and comfort him; and God help her to bear with herhard lot!

"The object of this contemptible comedy is plain enough to mymind. She is simply holding off (Julian, as you know, is a poorman) until the influence of Lady Janet's persuasion is backed bythe opening of Lady Janet's purse. In one word--Settlements! Butfor the profanity of the woman's language, and the reallylamentable credulity of the poor old lady, the whole thing wouldmake a fit subject for a burlesque.

"But the saddest part of the story is still to come.

"In due course of time the lady's decision was communicated toJulian Gray. He took leave of his senses on the spot. Can youbelieve it?-- he has resigned his curacy! At a time when thechurch is thronged every Sunday to hear him preach, this madmanshuts the door and walks out of the pulpit. Even Lady Janet wasnot far enough gone in folly to abet him in this. Sheremonstrated, like the rest of his friends. Perfectly useless! Hehad but one answer to everything they could say: 'My career isclosed.' What stuff!

"You will ask, naturally enough, what this perverse man is goingto do next. I don't scruple to say that he is bent on committingsuicide. Pray do not be alarmed! There is no fear of the pistol,the rope, or the river. Julian is simply courting death--withinthe limits of the law.

"This is strong language, I know. You shall hear what the factsare, and judge for yourself.

''Having resigned his curacy, his next proceeding was to offerhis services, as volunteer, to a new missionary enterprise on theWest Coast of Africa. The persons at the head of the missionproved, most fortunately, to have a proper sense of their duty.Expressing their conviction of the value of Julian's assistancein the most handsome terms, they made it nevertheless a conditionof entertaining his proposal that he should submit to examinationby a competent medical man. After some hesitation he consented tothis. The doctor's report was conclusive. In Julian's presentstate of health the climate of West Africa would in allprobability kill him in three months' time.

"Foiled in his first attempt, he addressed himself next to aLondon Mission. Here it was impossible to raise the question ofclimate, and here, I grieve to say, he has succeeded.

"He is now working--in other words, he is now deliberatelyrisking his life--in the Mission to Green Anchor Fields. Thedistrict known by this name is situated in a remote part ofLondon, near the Thames. It is notoriously infested by the mostdesperate and degraded set of wretches in the whole metropolitanpopulation, and it is so thickly inhabited that it is hardly evercompletely free from epidemic disease. In this horrible place,and among these dangerous people, Julian is now employing himselffrom morning to night. None of his old friends ever see him.Since he joined the Mission he has not even called on Lady JanetRoy.

"My pledge is redeemed--the facts are before you. Am I wrong intaking my gloomy view of the prospect? I cannot forget that thisunhappy man was once my friend, and I really see no hope for himin the future. Deliberately self-exposed to the violence ofruffians and the outbreak of disease, who is to extricate himfrom his shocking position? The one person who can do it is theperson whose association with him would be his ruin--MercyMerrick. Heaven only knows what disasters it may be my painfulduty to communicate to you in my next letter!

"You are so kind as to ask me to tell you something about myselfand my plans.

"I have very little to say on either head. After what I havesuffered--my feelings trampled on, my confidence betrayed--I amas yet hardly capable of deciding what I shall do. Returning tomy old profession--to the army--is out of the question, in theseleveling days, when any obscure person who can pass anexamination may call himself my brother officer, and may one day,perhaps, command me as my superior in rank. If I think of anycareer, it is the career of diplomacy. Birth and breeding havenot quite disappeared as essential qualifications in _that_branch of the public service. But I have decided nothing as yet.

"My mother and sisters, in the event of your returning toEngland, desire me to say that it will afford them the greatestpleasure to make your acquaintance. Sympathizing with me, they donot forget what you too have suffered. A warm welcome awaits youwhen you pay your first visit at our house. Most truly yours,

"HORACE HOLMCROFT."

II.

From MISS GRACE ROSEBERRY to MR. HORACE HOLMCROFT.

"DEAR MR. HOLMCROFT--I snatch a few moments from my otheravocations to thank you for your most interesting and delightfulletter. How well you describe, how accurately you judge! IfLiterature stood a little higher as a profession, I should almostadvise you--but no! if you entered Literature, how could _you_associate with the people whom you would be likely to meet?

"Between ourselves, I always thought Mr. Julian Gray an overratedman. I will not say he has justified my opinion. I will only sayI pity him. But, dear Mr. Holmcroft, how can you, with your soundjudgment, place the sad alternatives now before him on the samelevel? To die in Green Anchor Fields, or to fall into theclutches of that vile wretch--is there any comparison between thetwo? Better a thousand times die at the post of duty than marryMercy Merrick.

"As I have written the creature's name, I may add--so as to haveall the sooner done with the subject--that I shall look withanxiety for your next letter. Do not suppose that I feel thesmallest curiosity about this degraded and designing woman. Myinterest in her is purely religious. To persons of my devout turnof mind she is an awful warning. When I feel Satan near me--itwill be _such_ a means of grace to think of Mercy Merrick!

"Poor Lady Janet! I noticed those signs of mental decay to whichyou so feelingly allude at the last interview I had with her inMablethorpe House. If you can find an opportunity, will you saythat I wish her well, here and hereafter? and will you please addthat I do not omit to remember her in my prayers?

"There is just a chance of my visiting England toward the closeof the autumn. My fortunes have changed since I wrote last. Ihave been received as reader and companion by a lady who is thewife of one of our high judicial functionaries in this part ofthe world. I do not take much interest in _him_; he is what theycall a 'self-made man.' His wife is charming. Besides being aperson of highly intellectual tastes, she is greatly herhusband's superior--as you will understand when I tell you thatshe is related to the Gommerys of Pommery; _not_ the Pommerys ofGommery, who (as your knowledge of our old families will informyou) only claim kindred with the younger branch of that ancientrace.

"In the elegant and improving companionship which I now enjoy Ishould feel quite happy but for one drawback. The climate ofCanada is not favorable to my kind patroness, and her medicaladvisers recommend her to winter in London. In this event, I amto have t he privilege of accompanying her. Is it necessary toadd that my first visit will be paid at your house? I feelalready united by sympathy to your mother and your sisters. Thereis a sort of freemasonry among gentlewomen, is there not? Withbest thanks and remembrances, and many delightful anticipationsof your next letter, believe me, dear Mr. Holmcroft,

"Truly yours,

GRACE ROSEBERRY."

III.

From MR. HORACE HOLMCROFT to MISS GRACE ROSEBERRY.

"MY DEAR MISS ROSEBERRY--Pray excuse my long silence. I havewaited for mail after mail, in the hope of being able to send yousome good news at last. It is useless to wait longer. My worstforebodings have been realized: my painful duty compels me towrite a letter which will surprise and shock you.

"Let me describe events in their order as they happened. In thisway I may hope to gradually prepare your mind for what is tocome.

"About three weeks after I wrote to you last, Julian Gray paidthe penalty of his headlong rashness. I do not mean that hesuffered any actual violence at the hands of the people amongwhom he had cast his lot. On the contrary, he succeeded,incredible as it may appear, in producing a favorable impressionon the ruffians about him. As I understand it, they began byrespecting his courage in venturing among them alone; and theyended in discovering that he was really interested in promotingtheir welfare. It is to the other peril, indicated in my lastletter, that he has fallen a victim--the peril of disease. Notlong after he began his labors in the district fever broke out.We only heard that Julian had been struck down by the epidemicwhen it was too late to remove him from the lodging that heoccupied in the neighborhood. I made inquiries personally themoment the news reached us. The doctor in attendance refused toanswer for his life.

"In this alarming state of things poor Lady Janet, impulsive andunreasonable as usual, insisted on leaving Mablethorpe House andtaking up her residence near her nephew.

"Finding it impossible to persuade her of the folly of removingfrom home and its comforts at her age, I felt it my duty toaccompany her. We found accommodation (such as it was) in ariver-side inn, used by ship-captains and commercial travelers. Itook it on myself to provide the best medical assistance, LadyJanet's insane prejudices against doctors impelling her to leavethis important part of the arrangements entirely in my hands.

"It is needless to weary you by entering into details on thesubject of Julian's illness.

"The fever pursued the ordinary course, and was characterized bythe usual intervals of delirium and exhaustion succeeding eachother. Subsequent events, which it is, unfortunately, necessaryto relate to you, leave me no choice but to dwell (as briefly aspossible) on the painful subject of the delirium. In other casesthe wanderings of fever-stricken people present, I am told, acertain variety of range. In Julian's case they were limited toone topic. He talked incessantly of Mercy Merrick. His invariablepetition to his medical attendants entreated them to send for herto nurse him. Day and night that one idea was in his mind, andthat one name on his lips.

"The doctors naturally made inquiries as to this absent person. Iwas obliged (in confidence) to state the circumstances to themplainly.

"The eminent physician whom I had called in to superintend thetreatment behaved admirably. Though he has risen from the lowerorder of the people, he has, strange to say, the instincts of agentleman. He thoroughly understood our trying position, and feltall the importance of preventing such a person as Mercy Merrickfrom seizing the opportunity of intruding herself at the bedside.A soothing prescription (I have his own authority for saying it)was all that was required to meet the patient's case. The localdoctor, on the other hand, a young man (and evidently a red-hotradical), proved to be obstinate, and, considering his position,insolent as well. 'I have nothing to do with the lady'scharacter, and with your opinion of it,' he said to me. 'I haveonly, to the best of my judgment, to point out to you thelikeliest means of saving the patient's life. Our art is at theend of its resources. Send for Mercy Merrick, no matter who sheis or what she is. There is just a chance--especially if sheproves to be a sensible person and a good nurse--that he mayastonish you all by recognizing her. In that case only, hisrecovery is probable. If you persist in disregarding hisentreaties, if you let the delirium go on for four-and-twentyhours more, he is a dead man.'

"Lady Janet was, most unluckily, present when this impudentopinion was delivered at the bedside.

"Need I tell you the sequel? Called upon to choose between thecourse indicated by a physician who is making his five thousand ayear, and who is certain of the next medical baronetcy, and theadvice volunteered by an obscure general practitioner at the EastEnd of London, who is not making his five hundred a year--need Istop to inform you of her ladyship's decision? You know her; andyou will only too well understand that her next proceeding was topay a third visit to the Refuge.

"Two hours later--I give you my word of honor I am notexaggerating--Mercy Merrick was established at Julian's bedside.

"The excuse, of course, was that it was her duty not to let anyprivate scruples of her own stand in the way, when a medicalauthority had declared that she might save the patient's life.You will not be surprised to hear that I withdrew from the scene.The physician followed my example--after having written hissoothing prescription, and having been grossly insulted by thelocal practitioner's refusing to make use of it. I went back inthe doctor's carriage. He spoke most feelingly and properly.Without giving any positive opinion, I could see that he hadabandoned all hope of Julian's recovery. 'We are in the hands ofProvidence, Mr. Holmcroft;' those were his last words as he setme down at my mother's door.

"I have hardly the heart to go on. If I studied my own wishes, Ishould feel inclined to stop here.

"Let me, at least, hasten to the end. In two or three days' timeI received my first intelligence of the patient and his nurse.Lady Janet informed me that he had recognized her. When I heardthis I felt prepared for what was to come. The next reportannounced that he was gaining strength, and the next that he wasout of danger. Upon this Lady Janet returned to MablethorpeHouse. I called there a week ago--and heard that he had beenremoved to the sea-side. I called yesterday--and received thelatest information from her ladyship's own lips. My pen almostrefuses to write it. Mercy Merrick has consented to marry him!

"An outrage on Society--that is how my mother and my sisters viewit; that is how _you_ will view it too. My mother has herselfstruck Julian's name off her invitation-list. The servants havetheir orders, if he presumes to call: 'Not at home.'

"I am unhappily only too certain that I am correct in writing toyou of this disgraceful marriage as of a settled thing. LadyJanet went the length of showing me the letters--one from Julian,the other from the woman herself. Fancy Mercy Merrick incorrespondence with Lady Janet Roy! addressing her as 'My dearLady Janet,' and signing, 'Yours affectionately!'

"I had not the patience to read either of the letters through.Julian's tone is the tone of a Socialist; in my opinion hisbishop ought to be informed of it. As for _her_ she plays herpart just as cleverly with her pen as she played it with hertongue. 'I cannot disguise from myself that I am wrong inyielding. . . . Sad forebodings fill my mind when I think of thefuture. . . . I feel as if the first contemptuous look that iscast at my husband will destroy _my_ happiness, though it may notdisturb _him_. . . . As long as I was parted from him I couldcontrol my own weakness, I could accept my hard lot. But how canI resist him after having watched for weeks at his bedside; afterhaving seen his first smile, and heard his first grateful words to me while I was slowly helping him back to life?'

"There is the tone which she takes through four closely writtenpages of nauseous humility and clap-trap sentiment! It is enoughto make one despise women. Thank God, there is the contrast athand to remind me of what is due to the better few among the sex.I feel that my mother and my sisters are doubly precious to menow. May I add, on the side of consolation, that I prize withhardly inferior gratitude the privilege of corresponding with_you?_

"Farewell for the present. I am too rudely shaken in my mostcherished convictions, I am too depressed and disheartened, towrite more. All good wishes go with you, dear Miss Roseberry,until we meet.

"Most truly yours,

HORACE HOLMCROFT."

IV.

Extracts from the DIARY of THE REVEREND JULIAN GRAY.

FIRST EXTRACT.

. . . ."A month to-day since we were married! I have only onething to say: I would cheerfully go through all that I havesuffered to live this one month over again. I never knew whathappiness was until now. And better still, I have persuaded Mercythat it is all her doing. I have scattered her misgivings to thewinds; she is obliged to submit to evidence, and to own that shecan make the happiness of my life.

"We go back to London to-morrow. She regrets leaving the tranquilretirement of this remote sea-side place--she dreads change. Icare nothing for it. It is all one to me where I go, so long asmy wife is with me."

SECOND EXTRACT.

"The first cloud has risen. I entered the room unexpectedly justnow, and found her in tears.

"With considerable difficulty I persuaded her to tell me what hadhappened. Are there any limits to the mischief that can be doneby the tongue of a foolish woman? The landlady at my lodgings isthe woman, in this case. Having no decided plans for the futureas yet, we returned (most unfortunately, as the event has proved)to the rooms in London which I inhabited in my bachelor days.They are still mine for six weeks to come, and Mercy wasunwilling to let me incur the expense of taking her to a hotel.At breakfast this morning I rashly congratulated myself (in mywife's hearing) on finding that a much smaller collection thanusual of letters and cards had accumulated in my absence.Breakfast over, I was obliged to go out. Painfully sensitive,poor thing, to any change in my experience of the little worldaround me which it is possible to connect with the event of mymarriage, Mercy questioned the landlady, in my absence, about thediminished number of my visitors and my correspondents. The womanseized the opportunity of gossiping about me and my affairs, andmy wife's quick perception drew the right conclusion unerringly.My marriage has decided certain wise heads of families ondiscontinuing their social relations with me. The facts,unfortunately, speak for themselves. People who in former yearshabitually called upon me and invited me--or who, in the event ofmy absence, habitually wrote to me at this season--have abstainedwith a remarkable unanimity from calling, inviting, or writingnow.

"It would have been sheer waste of time--to say nothing of itsalso implying a want of confidence in my wife--if I had attemptedto set things right by disputing Mercy's conclusion. I could onlysatisfy her that not so much as the shadow of disappointment ormortification rested on my mind. In this way I have, to someextent, succeeded in composing my poor darling. But the wound hasbeen inflicted, and the wound is felt. There is no disguisingthat result. I must face it boldly.

"Trifling as this incident is in my estimation, it has decided meon one point already. In shaping my future course I am nowresolved to act on my own convictions--in preference to takingthe well-meant advice of such friends as are still left to me.

"All my little success in life has been gained in the pulpit. Iam what is termed a popular preacher--but I have never, in mysecret self, felt any exultation in my own notoriety, or anyextraordinary respect for the means by which it has been won. Inthe first place, I have a very low idea of the importance oforatory as an intellectual accomplishment. There is no other artin which the conditions of success are so easy of attainment;there is no other art in the practice of which so much that ispurely superficial passes itself off habitually for somethingthat claims to be profound. Then, again, how poor it is in theresults which it achieves! Take my own case. How often (forexample) have I thundered with all my heart and soul against thewicked extravagance of dress among women--against their filthyfalse hair and their nauseous powders and paints! How often (totake another example) have I denounced the mercenary and materialspirit of the age--the habitual corruptions and dishonesties ofcommerce, in high places and in low! What good have I done? Ihave delighted the very people whom it was my object to rebuke.'What a charming sermon!' 'More eloquent than ever!' 'I used todread the sermon at the other church--do you know, I quite lookforward to it now.' That is the effect I produce on Sunday. OnMonday the women are off to the milliners to spend more moneythan ever; the city men are off to business to make more moneythan ever--while my grocer, loud in my praises in his Sundaycoat, turns up his week-day sleeves and adulterates his favoritepreacher's sugar as cheerfully as usual!

"I have often, in past years, felt the objections to pursuing mycareer which are here indicated. They were bitterly present to mymind when I resigned my curacy, and they strongly influence menow.

"I am weary of my cheaply won success in the pulpit. I am wearyof society as I find it in my time. I felt some respect formyself, and some heart and hope in my works among the miserablewretches in Green Anchor Fields. But I can not, and must not,return among them: I have no right, _now_, to trifle with myhealth and my life. I must go back to my preaching, or I mustleave England. Among a primitive people, away from the cities--inthe far and fertile West of the great American continent--I mightlive happily with my wife, and do good among my neighbors, secureof providing for our wants out of the modest little income whichis almost useless to me here. In the life which I thus picture tomyself I see love, peace, health, and duties and occupations thatare worthy of a Christian man. What prospect is before me if Itake the advice of my friends and stay here? Work of which I amweary, because I have long since ceased to respect it; pettymalice that strikes at me through my wife, and mortifies andhumiliates her, turn where she may. If I had only myself to thinkof, I might defy the worst that malice can do. But I have Mercyto think of--Mercy, whom I love better than my own life! Womenlive, poor things, in the opinions of others. I have had onewarning already of what my wife is likely to suffer at the handsof my 'friends'--Heaven forgive me for misusing the word! Shall Ideliberately expose her to fresh mortifications?--and this forthe sake of returning to a career the rewards of which I nolonger prize? No! We will both be happy--we will both be free!God is merciful, Nature is kind, Love is true, in the New Worldas well as the Old. To the New World we will go!"

THIRD EXTRACT.

"I hardly know whether I have done right or wrong. I mentionedyesterday to Lady Janet the cold reception of me on my return toLondon, and the painful sense of it felt by my wife.

"My aunt looks at the matter from her own peculiar point of view,and makes light of it accordingly. 'You never did, and neverwill, understand Society, Julian,' said her ladyship. 'These poorstupid people simply don't know what to do. They are waiting tobe told by a person of distinction whether they are, or are not,to recognize your marriage. In plain English, they are waiting tobe led by Me. Consider it done. I will lead them.'

"I thought my aunt was joking. The event of to-day has shown methat she is terribly in earnest. Lady Janet has issuedinvitations for one of her grand balls at Mablethorpe House; andsh e has caused the report to be circulated everywhere that theobject of the festival is 'to celebrate the marriage of Mr. andMrs. Julian Gray!'

"I at first refused to be present. To my amazement, however,Mercy sides with my aunt. She reminds me of all that we both oweto Lady Janet; and she has persuaded me to alter my mind. We areto go to the ball--at my wife express request!

"The meaning of this, as I interpret it, is that my poor love isstill pursued in secret by the dread that my marriage has injuredme in the general estimation. She will suffer anything, riskanything, believe anything, to be freed from that one hauntingdoubt. Lady Janet predicts a social triumph; and my wife'sdespair--not my wife's conviction--accepts the prophecy. As forme, I am prepared for the result. It will end in our going to theNew World, and trying Society in its infancy, among the forestsand the plains. I shall quietly prepare for our departure, andown what I have done at the right time--that is to say, when theball is over."

FOURTH EXTRACT.

"I have met with the man for my purpose--an old college friend ofmine, now partner in a firm of ship-owners, largely concerned inemigration.

"One of their vessels sails for America, from the port of London,in a fortnight, touching at Plymouth. By a fortunate coincidence,Lady Janet's ball takes place in a fortnight. I see my way.

"Helped by the kindness of my friend, I have arranged to have acabin kept in reserve, on payment of a small deposit. If the ballends (as I believe it will) in new mortifications for Mercy--dowhat they may, I defy them to mortify _me_--I have only to saythe word by telegraph, and we shall catch the ship at Plymouth.

"I know the effect it will have when I break the news to her, butI am prepared with my remedy. The pages of my diary, written inpast years, will show plainly enough that it is not _she_ who isdriving me away from England. She will see the longing in me forother work and other scenes expressing itself over and over againlong before the time when we first met."

FIFTH EXTRACT.

"Mercy's ball dress--a present from kind Lady Janet--is finished.I was allowed to see the first trial, or preliminary rehearsal,of this work of art. I don't in the least understand the meritsof silk and lace; but one thing I know--my wife will be the mostbeautiful woman at the ball.

"The same day I called on Lady Janet to thank her, andencountered a new revelation of the wayward and originalcharacter of my dear old aunt.

"She was on the point of tearing up a letter when I went into herroom. Seeing me, she suspended her purpose and handed me theletter. It was in Mercy's handwriting. Lady Janet pointed to apassage on the last page. 'Tell your wife, with my love,' shesaid, 'that I am the most obstinate woman of the two. Ipositively refuse to read her, as I positively refuse to listento her, whenever she attempts to return to that one subject. Nowgive me the letter back.' I gave it back, and saw it torn upbefore my face. The 'one subject' prohibited to Mercy as sternlyas ever is still the subject of the personation of GraceRoseberry! Nothing could have been more naturally introduced, ormore delicately managed, than my wife's brief reference to thesubject. No matter. The reading of the first line was enough.Lady Janet shut her eyes and destroyed the letter--Lady Janet isdetermined to live and die absolutely ignorant of the true storyof 'Mercy Merrick.' What unanswerable riddles we are! Is itwonderful if we perpetually fail to understand one another?"

SIXTH EXTRACT.

"The morning after the ball.

"It is done and over. Society has beaten Lady Janet. I haveneither patience nor time to write at length of it. We leave forPlymouth by the afternoon express.

"We were rather late in arriving at the ball. The magnificentrooms were filling fast. Walking through them with my wife, shedrew my attention to a circumstance which I had not noticed atthe time. 'Julian,' she said, 'look round among the lades, andtell me if you see anything strange.' As I looked round the bandbegan playing a waltz. I observed that a few people only passedby us to the dancing-room. I noticed next that of those few fewerstill were young. At last it burst upon me. With certainexceptions (so rare as to prove the rule), there were no younggirls at Lady Janet's ball. I took Mercy at once back to thereception-room. Lady Janet's face showed that she, too, was awareof what had happened. The guests were still arriving. We receivedthe men and their wives, the men and their mothers, the men andtheir grandmothers--but, in place of their unmarried daughters,elaborate excuses, offered with a shameless politeness wonderfulto see. Yes! This was how the matrons in high life had got overthe difficulty of meeting Mrs. Julian Gray at Lady Janet's house.

"Let me do strict justice to every one. The ladies who _were_present showed the needful respect for their hostess. They didtheir duty--no, overdid it, is perhaps the better phrase.

"I really had no adequate idea of the coarseness and rudenesswhich have filtered their way through society in these latertimes until I saw the reception accorded to my wife. The days ofprudery and prejudice are days gone by. Excessive amiability andexcessive liberality are the two favorite assumptions of themodern generation. To see the women expressing their liberalforgetfulness of my wifely misfortunes, and the men their amiableanxiety to encourage her husband; to hear the same set phrasesrepeated in every room--'So charmed to make your acquaintance,Mrs. Gray; so _much_ obliged to dear Lady Janet for giving usthis opportunity!--Julian, old man, what a beautiful creature! Ienvy you; upon my honor, I envy you!'--to receive this sort ofwelcome, emphasized by obtrusive hand-shakings, sometimesactually by downright kissings of my wife, and then to look roundand see that not one in thirty of these very people had broughttheir unmarried daughters to the ball, was, I honestly believe,to see civilized human nature in its basest conceivable aspect.The New World may have its disappointments in store for us, butit cannot possibly show us any spectacle so abject as thespectacle which we witnessed last night at my aunt's ball.

"Lady Janet marked her sense of the proceeding adopted by herguests by leaving them to themselves. Her guests remained andsupped heartily notwithstanding. They all knew by experience thatthere were no stale dishes and no cheap wines at MablethorpeHouse. They drank to the end of the bottle, and they ate to thelast truffle in the dish.

"Mercy and I had an interview with my aunt upstairs before weleft. I felt it necessary to state plainly my resolution to leaveEngland. The scene that followed was so painful that I cannotprevail on myself to return to it in these pages. My wife isreconciled to our departure; and Lady Janet accompanies us as faras Plymouth--these are the results. No words can express my senseof relief, now that it is all settled. The one sorrow I shallcarry away with me from the shores of England will be the sorrowof parting with dear, warm-hearted Lady Janet. At her age it is aparting for life.

"So closes my connection with my own country. While I have Mercyby my side I face the unknown future, certain of carrying myhappiness with me, go where I may. We shall find five hundredadventurers like ourselves when we join the emigrant ship, forwhom their native land has no occupation and no home. Gentlemenof the Statistical Department, add two more to the number ofsocial failures produced by England in the year of our Lordeighteen hundred and seventy-one--Julian Gray and Mercy Merrick.