hought of
her as raving in brain-fever, descending deep down into the abyss of
delirium, and now--here she was--here--by my side!--my Lady of the
Ice!--Marion!

"I heard that you were here," she said, in a low, tremulous voice, "and
I could not help coming down to tell you how I--how I bless you for
--for that night."

She stopped--and held out her hand in silence.

I seized it in both of mine. For a few moments I could not speak. At
last I burst forth:

"Oh, my God! What bliss it is for me to see you!--I've been thinking
about it ever since--I've been afraid that you were ill--that you would
never get over it."

And still holding her hand in mine, I raised it with tremulous
eagerness, and pressed it to my lips.

She gently withdrew it, but without any appearance of anger.

"No," said she, "I was not ill. A wakeful night, a very feverish
excitement--that was all."

"I listened long after you left," said I, in a low voice; "and all was
still."

"Yes," she said, in the same low voice. "No one heard me. I reached my
room without any one knowing it. But I had much to sustain me. For oh,
sir, I felt deeply, deeply grateful to find myself back again, and to
know that my folly had ended so. To be again in my dear home--with my
dear papa--after the anguish that I had known!"

She stopped.--It was a subject that she could not speak of without an
emotion that was visible in every tone. Her voice was sad, and low, and
solemn, and all its intonations thrilled to the very core of my being.
And for me--I had nothing to say--I thrilled, my heart bounded at the
sight of her face, and at the tones of her voice; while within me there
was a great and unspeakable joy. If I had dared to say to her all that
I felt at that moment! But how dare I? She had come in the fulness of
her warm gratitude to thank me for what I had done. She did not seem to
think that, but for me, she would not have left her home at all. She
only remembered that I had brought her back. It was thus that her
generous nature revealed itself.

Now, while she thus expressed such deep and fervent gratitude, and
evinced such joy at being again in her home, and at finding such an
ending to her folly, there came to me a great and unequalled
exultation. For by this I understood that her folly was cured--that her
infatuation was over--that the glamour had been dissipated--that her
eyes had been opened--and the once--adored Jack was now an object of
indifference.