what is the matter."

"Fever. Don't alarm yourself unnecessarily. I do not think his life is
in any danger."

"Thank God! Oh, thank God for that!"

She covered her face with her slender hands, and he could see the
fast-falling tears.

"My dear Agnes," he said, kindly. "I don't like to see you distress
yourself in this manner. Besides, there is no occasion. I think your
darkest days are over. I don't see why you may not go and nurse your
husband."

Her hands dropped from before her face, her great dark eyes fixed
themselves on his face, dilated and wildly.

"You would like it, wouldn't you? Well, I really don't think there is
anything to hinder. He is calling for you perpetually, if it will make
you happy to know it. Tell Miss Danton your story at once; tell her who
you are, and if she doubts your veracity, refer her to me. I have a
letter from Mr. Crosby, testifying in the most solemn manner your
innocence. I wrote to him, Agnes, as I could not find time to visit him.
Tell Miss Kate to-day, if you choose, and you may watch by your
husband's bedside to night. Good afternoon. Old Renaud is shouting out
with rheumatism; I must go and see after him."

He strode away, leaving Agnes clinging to the tree, trembling and white.
The time had come, then. Her husband lived, and might be returned to her
yet. At the thought she fell down on her knees on the snowy ground, with
the most fervent prayer of thanksgiving in her heart she had ever
uttered.

Some two hours later, and just as the dusk of the short winter day was
falling, Kate came out of her brother's sick-room. She looked jaded and
worn, as she lingered for a moment at the hall-window to watch the
grayish-yellow light fade out of the sky. She had spent the best part of
the day in the close chamber, and the bright outer air seemed
unspeakably refreshing. She went to her room, threw a large cloth mantle
round her shoulders, drew the fur-trimmed hood over her head, and went
out.

The frozen fish-pond glittered like a sheet of ivory in the fading
light; and walking slowly around it, she saw a little familiar figure,
robed like a nun, in black. She had hardly seen the pale seamstress for
weeks, she had been too much absorbed in other things; but now, glad of
companionship, she crossed over to the fish-pond and joined her. As she
drew closer, and could see the girl's face in the cold, pale twilight,
she was struck with its pallor and indescribably mournful expression.