orse. My life was despaired
of. Would to God that I had died then and there in the crisis of that
fever! But I escaped it, and once more rose from my bed.

"I dragged myself back to your side, and staid there on my sofa,
keeping watch over you, till once more I was struck down. Then I
recovered once more, and gained health and strength again. Tell me,
my lord," and Hilda's eyes seemed to penetrate to the soul of Lord
Chetwynde as she spoke--"tell me, is this the sign of a 'bad mind and
heart?'"

As, Hilda had spoken she had evinced the strongest agitation. Her
hands clutched one another, her voice was tremulous with emotion, her
face was white, and a hectic flush on either cheek showed her
excitement. Lord Chetwynde would have been either more or less than
human if he had listened unmoved. As it was, he felt moved to the
depths of his soul. Yet he could not say one word.

"I am alone in the world," said Hilda, mournfully. "You promised once
to see about my happiness. That was a vow extorted from a boy, and it
is nothing in itself. You said, not long ago, that you intended to
keep your promise by separating yourself from me and giving me some
money. Lord Chetwynde, look at me, think of what I have done, and
answer. Is this the way to secure my happiness? What is money to me?
Money! Do I care for money? What is it that I care for? I? I only
wish to die! I have but a short time to live. I feel that I am
doomed. Your money, Lord Chetwynde, will soon go back to you. Spare
your solicitors the trouble to which you are putting them. If you can
give me death, it will be the best thing that you can bestow. I gave
you life. Can you not return the boon by giving me death, my lord?"

These last words Hilda wailed out in low tones of despair which
vibrated in Lord Chetwynde's breast.

"At least," said she, "do not be in haste about leaving me. I will
soon leave you forever. It is not much I ask. Let me only be near you
for a short time, my lord. It is a small wish. Bear with me. You will
see, before I die, that I have not altogether a 'bad mind and
heart.'"

Her voice sank down into low tones of supplication; her head drooped
forward; her intense feeling overcame her; tears burst from her eyes
and flowed unchecked.

"Lady Chetwynde," said Lord Chetwynde, in deep emotion, "do as you
wish. You have my gratitude for your noble devotion. I owe my life to
you. If you really care about accompanying me I will not thwart your
wishe