e in my head. I watched till I saw them reach the boat--till I saw
one of them get over in it. Then while they groped about with ropes and
poles, and lashed their boats together, and leaned over and gazed down
into the water, I watched in a strange, benumbed state.

But, by-and-by, there were some exclamations--a stir, and effort of
strength. I saw them pulling in the ropes with combined movement. I saw
them leaning over the side of the boat, nearest the shore, and together
trying to lift something heavy over into it. I saw the water dripping as
they raised it--and then I think I must have swooned. For I knew nothing
further till I heard Richard's voice, and, raising my head, saw him
leaping from the boat upon the bank. The other boat was further out, and
was approaching slowly. I stood up as he came to me, and held by
the railing.

"I want you to go up to the house," he said, gently, "there can be no
good in your staying here."

"I will stay," I cried, everything coming back to me. "I will--will see
him."

"There is no hope, Pauline," he said, in a quick voice, for the boat was
very near the bank, "or very little--and you must not stay. Everything
shall be done that can be done. I will do all. But you must not stay."

"I will," I said, frantically, trying to burst past him. He caught my
arms and turned me toward the boat-house, and led me through it, out
into the path that went up to the grove.

"Go home," he said, in a voice I never shall forget. "You shall not make
a spectacle for these men. I have promised you I will do all. Mind you
obey me strictly, and go up to your room and wait there till I come."

I don't know how I got there. I believe Bettina found me at the entrance
to the garden, and helped me to the house, and put me on my bed.

An hour passed--perhaps more--and such an hour! (for I was not for a
moment unconscious, after this, only deadly faint and weak), and then
Richard came. The door was a little open, and he pushed it back and
came in, and stood beside the bed.

I suppose the sight of me, so broken and spoiled by suffering, overcame
him, for he stooped down suddenly, and kissed me, and then did not speak
for a moment.

At last he said, in a voice not quite steady, "I didn't mean to be hard
on you, Pauline. But you know I had to do it."

"And there isn't any--any--" I gasped for the words, and could hardly
speak.

"No, none, Pauline," he said, keeping my hand in his. "The doctors have
j