. I was in a
whirl of emotion which robbed me of all discrimination. As I realised my
own condition, I concluded that my wisest move would be to withdraw
myself for a time from every eye. Accordingly, and at the risk of
offending more than one pretty girl who still had something to say
concerning this terrible mischance, I slid away to my room, happy to
escape the murmurs and snatches of talk rising on every side. One bitter
speech, uttered by I do not know whom, rang in my ears and made all
thinking unendurable. It was this:

"Poor woman! she was angry once too often. I heard her scolding Dorothy
again after she went to her room. That is why Dorothy is so overcome.
She says it was the violence of her aunt's rage which killed her--a
rage of which she unfortunately was the cause."

So there were words again between these two after the door closed upon
them for the night! Was this what we heard just before that scream went
up? It would seem so. Thereupon, quite against my will, I found myself
thinking of Dorothy's changed position before the world. Only yesterday
a dependent slave; to-day, the owner of millions. Gilbertine would have
her share--a large one--but there was enough to make them both wealthy.
Intolerable thought! Would that no money had been involved! I hated to
think of those diamonds and----

Oh, anything was better than this! Dashing from my room, I joined one of
the groups into which the single large circle had now broken up. The
house had been lighted from end to end, and some effort had been made at
a more respectable appearance by such persons as I now saw; some even
were fully dressed. All were engaged in discussing the one great topic.
Listening and not listening, I waited for the front-door bell to ring.
It sounded while one woman was saying to another:

"The Sinclairs will now be able to take their honeymoon in their own
yacht."

I made my way to where I could watch Sinclair while the physicians were
in the room. I thought his face looked very noble. The narrowness of his
own escape, the sympathy for me which the event, so much worse than
either of us anticipated, had wakened in his generous breast,
had called out all that was best in his naturally reserved and
not-always-to-be-understood nature. A tower of strength he was to me at
that hour. I knew that mercy, and mercy only, would influence his
conduct. He would be guilty of no rash or inconsiderate act. He would
give this young girl a chanc