Ask not what it is, but if at the end I turn on you and strike, blame me not here or hereafter, for it will be love's blow, my last service." It seemed as though Cicely did not understand those heavy words, at the least she took no heed of them.
"I'll pray again," she whispered, "though I fear that heaven's doors are closed to me; no light comes through," and she knelt down.
For long, long she prayed, till at length weariness overcame her, and Emlyn heard her breathing softly like one asleep.
"Let her sleep," she murmured to herself.

"Oh! if I were sure--she should never wake again to see the dawn.

I have half a mind to do it, but there it is, I am not sure.

If there is a God He will never suffer such a thing.

I'd have paid the jewels, but what's the use?
They would have killed her all the same, for else where's their title?
No, my heart bids me wait." Cicely awoke.
"Emlyn," she said in a low, thrilling voice, "do you hear me, Emlyn?
That angel has been with me again.