ugh, which made him shudder,
it was so unlike the merry, ringing tones he had once loved to hear.
"No, no, you are not Durward. He would not look at me as you do. He
thinks me guilty."

It was in vain Durward strove to convince her of his identity. She
would only answer with a laugh, which grated so harshly on his ear that
he finally desisted, and suffered her to think he was her cousin. The
smallness of her chamber troubled him, and when Mrs. Aldergrass came up
he asked if there was no other apartment where 'Lena would be more
comfortable.

"Of course there is," said Aunt Betsy. "There's the best chamber I was
goin' to give to you."

"Never mind me," said he. "Let her have every comfort the house
affords, and you shall be amply paid."

Uncle Timothy had now no objection to the offer, and the large, airy
room with its snowy, draped bed was soon in readiness for the sufferer,
who, in one of her wayward moods, absolutely refused to be moved. It
was in vain that Aunt Betsey plead, persuaded, and threatened, and at
last in despair Durward was called in to try his powers of persuasion.

"That's something more like it," said 'Lena, and when he urged upon her
the necessity of her removal, she asked, "Will you go with me?"

"Certainly," said he.

"And stay with me?"

"Certainly."

"Then I'll go," she continued, stretching her arms toward him as a
child toward its mother.

A moment more and she was reclining on the soft downy pillows, the
special pride of Mrs. Aldergrass, who bustled in and out, while her
husband, ashamed of his stinginess, said "they should of moved her
afore, only 'twas a bad sign."

During the remainder of the day she seemed more quiet, talking
incessantly, it is true, but never raving if Durward were near. If is
strange what power he had over her, a word from him sufficing at any
time to subdue her when in her most violent fits of frenzy. For two
days and nights he watched by her side, never giving himself a moment's
rest, while the neighbors looked on, surmising and commenting as people
always will. Every delicacy of the season, however costly, was
purchased for her comfort, while each morning the flowers which he knew
she loved the best were freshly gathered from the different gardens of
Laurel Hill, and in broken pitchers, cracked tumblers, and nicked
saucers, adorned the room.

At the close of the third day she fell into a heavy slumber, and
Durward, worn out and weary, retired