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Rh the ear of one of the mourners; he turned round, and the next moment, agitated and breathless, she was supported by Robert Evelyn.

The funeral service was concluded, and a few words, as he led her to the church, sufficed to explain the scene, which it was not meant she should have witnessed. Evelyn had felt it incumbent upon him to see the last duties paid to Major Johnstone, and only after nightfall could he and others of the party assemble for such purpose unmolested. Slight obstacles, one after another, had delayed the burial, and he had been waiting for some time, at once hoping and dreading Francesca's arrival. She made no remark; but as they passed one mound, where the wild-flowers grew in more lavish sweetness than on the others, she said, "That is Guido's grave;—nothing seems present here but death." Evelyn clasped her to his heart silently, and the action expressed with mute but tender eloquence, "There, at least, life and love beat for you, my own Francesca!"

On entering the church, she was met by the affectionate and cordial greeting of Lucy St. Aubyn. The unexpected kindness was too much for her; it was the last drop that overflowed the fountain of tears that had been gathering; and Lucy, who had been accustomed to see her so quiet, so self