to her sister's side.

CHAPTER XXXVI. WAKING.

So Love was still the Lord of all.--SCOTT.

The summer sun was sinking and a red glow was on the wall above
Aurelia's head when she moved again, upon the shutting of the door,
while supper was being taken by the gentlemen in the outer room.

Presently her lips moved, and she said, "Sister," not in surprise, but
as if she thought herself at home, and as Betty gently answered, "Yes,
my darling child," the same voice added, "I have had such a dream;
I thought I was a chrysalis, and that I could not break my shell nor
spread my wings."

"You can now, my sweet," said Betty, venturing to kiss her.

Recollection came. "Sister Betty, is it you indeed?" and she threw her
arms round Betty's neck, clinging tight to her in delicious silence,
till she raised her head and said: "No, this is not home. Oh, is it all
true?"

"True that I have you again, my dear, dearest, sweetest child," said
Betty. "Oh, thank God for it."

"Thank God," repeated Aurelia. "Now I have you nothing will be dreadful.
But where am I? I thought once I was in a boat with you and Eugene,
and some one else. Was it a dream? I can't remember anything since that
terrible old woman made me drink the coffee. You have not come there,
have you?"

"No, dear child, it was no dream that you were in a boat. We had been
searching everywhere for you, and we were bringing you back sound, sound
asleep," said Betty, in her tenderness speaking as it to a little child.

"I knew you would," said Aurelia; "I knew God would save me. Love is
strong as death, you know," she added dreamily: "I think I felt it all
round me in that sleep."

"That was what you murmured once or twice in your sleep," said Betty.

"And now, oh! it is so sweet to lie here and know it is you. And wasn't
_he_ there too?"

"Sir Amyas? Yes, my dear. He came for you. He and my father and the
others are in the other room waiting for you to wake."

"I hear their voices," cried Aurelia, with a start, sitting up. "Oh!
that's my papa's voice! Oh! how good it is to hear it!"

"I will call him as soon as I have set you a little in order. Are you
sure you are well, my dearest? No headache?"

"Quite, quite well! Why, sister, I have not been ill; and if I had, I
should skip to see you and hear their voices, only I wish they would
speak louder! That's Eugene! Oh! they are hushing him. Let me make
haste," and she moved with an alacrity that was m