It seemed to her that she was fighting for Stephen's very life, and she could not give way.

To all these out-pourings Stephen made no reply.

He answered the letters punctually, but made no reference to the question of the money, save by a few short words at the end of his letter, or in a postscript: such as, "It grieves me to see that you still dwell on that matter of which I said we must speak no more;" or, "Pray, dear Mercy, do not prolong that painful discussion.

I have nothing more to say to you about it." For the rest, his letters were faithful transcripts of the little events of his uneventful life, warm comments on any of Mercy's writings which he read, and gentle assurances of his continued affection.

The old longings, broodings, and passionate yearnings, which he used to pour out, ceased.
Stephen was wounded to the very quick; and the wound did not heal.