t shone in the weird passing light.

She lifted her head, and looked at him, still irresolute. Then she too
rose, and helplessly, like some one impelled by a will not her own, she
silently held out to him two white trembling hands.

'Catherine--my angel--my wife!'

There was something in the pale virginal grace of look and form which
kept his young passion in awe. But he bent his head again over those
yielded hands, kissing them with dizzy unspeakable joy.

* * * * *

About twenty minutes later Catherine and Robert, having hurried back
with all speed from the top of Shanmoss, reached the farmhouse door. She
knocked. No one answered. She tried the lock; it yielded, and they
entered. No one in the kitchen. She looked disturbed and
conscience-stricken.

'Oh!' she cried to him, under her breath; 'have we been too long?' And
hurrying into the inner room she left him waiting.

Inside was a mournful sight. The two men and Mrs. Irwin stood close
round the settle, but as she came nearer, Catherine saw Mary Backhouse
lying panting on her pillows, her breath coming in loud gasps, her dress
and all the coverings of the bed showing signs of disorder and
confusion, her black hair tossed about her.

'It's bin awfu' work sence you left, miss,' whispered Mrs. Irwin to
Catherine excitedly, as she joined them. 'She thowt she heerd soombody
fleytin' and callin'--it was t' wind came skirlin' round t' place, an'
she aw' but thrown hirsel' oot o' t' bed, an' aa shooted for Jim, and
they came, and they and I--it's bin as much as we could a' du to hod
'er.'

'Luke! Steady!' exclaimed Jim. 'She'll try it again.'

For the hands were moving restlessly from side to side, and the face was
working again. There was one more desperate effort to rise, which the
two men checked--gently enough, but effectually--and then the exhaustion
seemed complete. The lids fell, and the struggle for breath was pitiful.

Catherine flew for some drugs which the doctor had left, and shown her
how to use. After some twenty minutes they seemed to give relief, and
the great haunted eyes opened once more.

Catherine held barley-water to the parched lips, and Mary drank
mechanically, her gaze still intently fixed on her nurse. When Catherine
put down the glass the eyes followed her with a question which the lips
had no power to frame.

'Leave her now a little,' said Catherine to the others. 'The fewer
people and the more air the