here was
somebody here while I was so sick--somebody besides strangers--somebody
that stayed with me all the time--who was it?"

"Nobody, nobody--I mustn't tell," said Mrs. Aldergrass, hurriedly,
while 'Lena continued, "Was it Cousin John?"

"No, no; don't guess any more," was Mrs. Aldergrass's reply, and 'Lena,
clasping her hands together, exclaimed, "Oh, could it he be?"

The words reached Durward's ear, and nothing but a sense of the harm it
might do prevented him from going at once to her bedside. That night,
at his earnest request, the physician gave him permission to see her in
the morning, and Mrs. Aldergrass was commissioned to prepare her for
the interview. 'Lena did not ask who it was; she felt that she knew;
and the knowledge that he was there--that he had cared for
her--operated upon her like a spell, soothing her into the most
refreshing slumber she had experienced for many a weary week. With the
sun-rising she was awake, but Mrs. Aldergrass, who came in soon after,
told her that the visitor was not to be admitted until about ten, as
she would by that time have become more composed, and be the better
able to endure the excitement of the interview. A natural delicacy
prevented 'Lena from objecting to the delay, and, as calmly as
possible, she watched Mrs. Aldergrass while she put the room to rights,
and then patiently submitted to the arranging of her curls, which
during her illness had become matted and tangled. Before eight
everything was in readiness, and soon after, worn out by her own
exertions, 'Lena again fell asleep.

"How lovely she looks," thought Mrs. Aldergrass. "He shall just have a
peep at her," and stepping to the door she beckoned Durward to her side.

Never before had 'Lena, seemed so beautiful to him, and as he looked
upon her, he felt his doubts removing, one by one. She was
innocent--it could not be otherwise--and very impatiently he awaited
the lapse of the two hours which must pass ere he could see her, face
to face. At length, as the surest way of killing time, he started out
for a walk in a pleasant wood, which skirted the foot of Laurel Hill.

Here for a time we leave him, while in another chapter we speak of an
event which, in the natural order of things, should here be narrated.

CHAPTER XXXIV

'LENA'S FATHER.

Two or three days before the morning of which we have spoken, Uncle
Timothy, who like many of his profession had been guilty of a slight
infringemen