I think I am glad to go, things are so miserable here, and one loses patience sometimes.

I wish I could know poor Susan Locke's fate before I go; but Giles seems to have little hope.

Take care of yourself for my sake, Ursula.

I have grown to love you very dearly.
'-- Your affectionate friend, 'Gladys.' Mr.Hamilton came again early in the evening, and I took the opportunity of paying Phoebe another visit.
She was lying with her eyes closed, and looked very ill and exhausted,--alarmingly so, I thought: her emotion had nearly spent itself, and she was now passive and waiting for the worst.
'Let me know when it happens,' she whispered.

'I have no hope now, but I will try and bear it.' And she drew my hands to her lips and kissed them: 'they have touched Susan, they are doing my work, they are blessed hands to me.' And then she seemed unable to bear more.
When Mr.Hamilton paid his final visit he announced his intention of remaining in the house.