"But while I do wish you to know this—to try and forget the wrong done to me—there is another to turn to, to ask for forgiveness from."
She felt his hand clasp hers; and as in a dream came from his lips that first prayer of childhood—"Our Father!"
She left him after a while; but she did not go away that night.
Next day his servant, who slept in the little ante-room, saw that he had been busy writing, and then laid down and was now sleeping.
The doctor came and saw him, and directed that some one should stay beside him.
The hours went on, but Christie sitting there saw no change, only a greater stillness seemed to fill the room.
Then suddenly she saw that the sleep was the eternal sleep which knows no waking here.
Mrs. Dorriman at Inchbrae once more suffered long from the effects of all the agitation she had gone through. The last night of Mr. Sandford's life was spent in writing to her, but even to Mr. Stevens she said nothing of the contents of his letter, only comforted by the whispered prayer which was her last remembrance of him. One point she was anxious upon: the recovery of the old place, and whether there was any necessity for letting the world know this painful chapter in the family history.
Mr. Stevens arranged both matters for her. Mr. Sandford, having by will left everything to his sister, she paid the legacy duty for the money, which was found to have accumulated enormously.