placed her
full length upon its cushions.

She lay there so white and motionless that he was frightened. He felt
it impossible to call the Robinsons. He needed water, quickly. He
knew nothing of the house. His searching glance fell at once on the
vase of roses, standing on the table. He caught it up, drew out the
flowers, and was presently kneeling at Dorothy's side, wetting his
handkerchief with the water from the vase and pressing it closely on
her forehead.

She did not respond to his ministrations. He tore at her dress, where
it fastened at the neck, and laid it wide open for several inches. On
the creamy whiteness of her throat he sprinkled the water, then sprang
to the window, threw it up, and was once more kneeling beside her.

The fresh breeze swept in gratefully and cooled her face and neck. She
stirred, slightly turned, opened her eyes in a languid manner, and
partially relapsed into coma.

"Thank God!" said Garrison, who had feared for her life, and he once
more applied his wetted handkerchief. He spoke to her, gently:

"Forgive me, Dorothy--it's all right--everything's all right," but her
senses accepted nothing of his meaning.

For another five minutes, that seemed like an age, he rubbed at her
hands, resprinkled her throat and face, and waved a folded paper to
waft her the zephyr of air. When she once more opened her eyes she was
fairly well restored. She recovered her strength by a sheer exertion
of will and sat up, weakly, passing her hand across her brow.

"I must have fainted," she said. She was very white.

"You're all right now--the heat and unusual excitement," he answered
reassuringly. "Don't try to do anything but rest."

She looked at him with wide, half-frightened eyes. Her fears had
returned with her awakened intelligence.

"You mustn't stay," she told him with a firmness he was not prepared to
expect. "Please go as soon as you can."

"But--can I leave you like this? You may need me," he answered. "If
there's anything I can do----"

"Nothing now. Please don't remain," she interrupted. "I shall go to
my room at once."

Garrison realized she was in no condition for further questioning.
Whatsoever the status of the case or his doubts, there was nothing more
possible, with Dorothy in this present condition. He knew she very
much desired to be alone.

"But--when shall I see you? What shall I----" he started.

"I can't tell. Please go," she interrupted, and sh