Richard urged his request with eloquence.
Reginald Tracy felt that he could offer no sufficient excuse, short of the revelation of his own guilt, for refusing to attend the death-bed of one who craved his presence; and he agreed to accompany the young man to Markham Place.
Richard had a vehicle at the door; and in a short time they reached our hero's abode.
Reginald was conducted to the room where Monroe lay.
Hanging over the pillow, on which the invalid reclined, was a charming female form, from whose bosom deep sobs emanated, and rendered almost inaudible the words of strangely commingled hope and despair which she addressed to her father.
She did not hear the door open; and it was only when Richard approached the bed, and whispered that the Reverend Mr. Tracy was present, that she raised her tearful countenance.
Then did the eyes of the rector glance upon one of the most lovely beings whom Nature ever invested with all her choicest gifts; and—even in that solemn moment when he stood by the bed of one who was pronounced to be dying—his soul was stirred by the presence of that transcendent beauty.
"Oh! sir," exclaimed Ellen, in that musical voice which was now rendered tremulous by deep emotions, "how grateful am I for this prompt attention to the wish of my dear—dear father!"
"I deserve no gratitude for the performance of a Christian duty," answered the rector, as he approached the bed.
Markham took Ellen's hand and led her from the chamber, in order to allow unrestrained converse between the clergyman and the invalid.