sitting posture in her bed, and, at the conclusion, fell back
exhausted upon her pillow. The enthusiasm, the violence and the
intensity of her emotions had overborne her strength, and for some
moments she lay incapable of speech.

"Mildred, Mildred! daughter!" exclaimed Lindsay, in alarm, "I forgive
you, my child. Great heaven, if this should be too much for her
sensitive nature, and she should die before my eyes! Dear Mildred," he
said in a softer accent, as he kissed her pale forehead, "but look up,
and never, never more will I oppose your wish."

"Father," she uttered, in a scarce audible whisper.

"Thank God, she revives! Forbear to speak, my love; that is enough. Do
not exhaust your strength by another effort."

"Father!" she repeated in a firmer accent.

"There, there, my child," continued Lindsay, fanning the air before her
face with his hand.

"Father," again uttered Mildred, "tell me of Arthur."

"He is safe, my love--and thou shalt yet be happy. Daughter--no more;
compose yourself--nor attempt again to speak." And saying these words,
Lindsay stole out of the chamber and summoned one of the domestics to
administer a cordial to the exhausted patient; and then gave orders that
she should be left to recruit her strength by sleep.

Mildred by degrees revived. Jaded by mental affliction, she had sunk
into repose; and when another morning arrived, the lustre had returned
to her eye, and her recovery was already well advanced. She did not yet
venture from her chamber, but she was able to leave her bed and take the
fresh air at her window.

Whilst she sat in the loose robe of an invalid, towards noon, looking
out upon the green forest and smiling fields around her, with Henry
close by her side, seeking to soothe and amuse her mind, they were
enabled to descry a horseman, attended by a single servant, making his
way up the hill from the ford, by the road that led directly to the
door.

"As I live, sister," ejaculated Henry, "there is Tyrrel, covered with
dust, and his horse all but worn down by travel."

"Heaven forbid that it should be Tyrrel indeed!" said Mildred, growing
paler, and trembling as she spoke. "Oh, what ill fortune brings him
hither?"

"I'll be bound," replied Henry, "that he comes with a whole budget of
lies and foul thoughts. He has a knavish look, sister, and has been
hatching mischief with every step of his horse. I, for one, will not see
him; unless I can't help it. And you, sister, h