f delicacy,
I had so far kept to myself. I would add a few words of explanation,
and I doubted not that, in her calmer moments, she would do me justice.

And thus I acted; but as all the documents together made up too large
a packet for the post, I confided them to a waiter at the hotel,
who was to hand them over to a carrier calling every day at the Werve
for orders. I flattered myself I should speedily receive an answer,
and all the following day I passed in a feverish excitement, only
increased in the evening when no answer came. During the night I never
slept a moment. Another day passed, and still no answer; and now I gave
myself up to the most complete despair. There was nothing for me to do
but settle my affairs in all haste at Zutphen and return to the Hague.

I kept Overberg in the dark about my rupture with Francis, only
telling him pressing business called me back to the Hague. I signed
all the papers he put before me, and told him I would return as soon
as possible. The fact was I felt seriously unwell, and, as you know,
home is the best place under such circumstances; I thought I could
there immerse myself in my favourite studies, but I only remember
feeling an unbearable weight of oppression come over me.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Instead of regaining my usual calm in my own "sweet home," I fell
seriously ill the first night after my return. I was attacked by a
nervous fever, and remained for several days insensible. My landlady
now proved herself a faithful and attentive nurse, and she tells me
that my life was almost despaired of for some days. I am convalescent
at last, and I shall travel. You will ask where? I don't know yet;
nothing is decided.

When I was able to look over the papers which had accumulated on my
table during my illness, I found a card from my uncle the minister, who
had called to make inquiries about me. My worthy uncle had heard the
report that I was a millionaire. I also found quite a heap of letters
from Overberg and Van Beek, which I had not the courage to read; one,
however, marked "Important," I broke open. It announced the death of
my uncle Von Zwenken, and I was invited to the funeral. The date told
me that the letter was three weeks old! What had become of Francis?

Doubtless she was still ill-disposed towards me. She seemed to be
unaware of my illness, since she had invited me to the funeral of her
grandfather. What must she have thought of my silence? Not a sing