how wicked and supremely silly they would
think her.

Perhaps she could bribe the servants to keep her secret (her dress, her
travelling bag and the early hour would reveal something of its nature),
and gain her rooms again without being seen by any of the family; but then
her life would be one of constant terror of discovery.

Should she try that course, or the more straightforward one of not
attempting any concealment?

She was still debating this question in her mind, when her heart almost
flew into her mouth at the sound of a man's step approaching on the gravel
walk. It drew nearer, nearer, came close to her side, and with a cry of
terror she fell in a little heap on the doorstep in a dead faint.

He uttered a low exclamation of astonishment, stooped over her, and
pushing aside her veil so that the moonlight shone full upon her face,
"Zoe!" he said, "is it possible! What can have brought you here at this
hour of the night?"

He paused for an answer, but none came; then bending lower and perceiving
that she was quite unconscious, also fast, he took a key from his pocket
and opened the door.

He bent over her again, taking note of her dress and the travelling bag by
her side.

"Running away, evidently! could any one have conceived the possibility of
her doing so crazy a thing!" he muttered, as he took her in his arms.

Then a dark thought crossed his mind, but he put it determinately from
him.

"No; I will not, cannot think it! She is pure, guileless, and innocent as
an infant."

He stooped again, picked up the bag, closed the door softly, and carried
her up-stairs--treading with caution lest a stumble or the sound of his
footsteps should arouse some one and lead to the discovery of what was
going on; yet with as great celerity as consistent with that caution,
fearing consciousness might return too soon for the preservation of the
secrecy he desired.

But it did not; she was still insensible when he laid her down on a couch
in her boudoir.

He took off her hat and veil, threw them aside, loosened her dress, opened
a window to give her air, then went into the dressing-room for the night
lamp usually kept burning there.

As he turned it up, his eye fell upon Zoe's note.

He knew her handwriting instantly.

"Here is the explanation," was the thought that flashed into his mind, and
snatching it up, he tore open the envelope, held the card near the light
and read what her fingers had traced scarcely an