Take comfort, and cheer up, for the dear child's sake if no more." "I shall never wear them again" was all the answer as Lady Trevlyn drew the curtains, as if to shut out hope.
Sir Richard was buried and, the nine days' gossip over, the mystery of his death died for want of food, for the only person who could have explained it was in a state which forbade all allusion to that tragic day.
For a year Lady Trevlyn's reason was in danger.

A long fever left her so weak in mind and body that there was little hope of recovery, and her days were passed in a state of apathy sad to witness.

She seemed to have forgotten everything, even the shock which had so sorely stricken her.
The sight of her child failed to rouse her, and month after month slipped by, leaving no trace of their passage on her mind, and but slightly renovating her feeble body.
Who the stranger was, what his aim in coming, or why he never reappeared, no one discovered.

The contents of the letter left by Sir Richard were unknown, for the paper had been destroyed by Lady Trevlyn and no clue could be got from her.

Sir Richard had died of heart disease, the physicians said, though he might have lived years had no sudden shock assailed him.