true?"

"Dear mademoiselle, I regret to say, quite true. He was carried over
the Fall! there was no escape, no hope. Come, let me take you back to
the house for a moment where you may sit down." For she continued to
tremble so violently that presently she sank upon the low fence, still
pressing her hands over her heart. "Come, mademoiselle, let me take
you into the house."

"Not that house! Not that house!"

"Faith--I know of no other! You cannot remain here."

"But I can go back, back to Poussette's."

"You must drive or be driven then. You cannot walk."

It was true. Pauline's breath was now very short, her articulation
difficult, her throat contracted and relaxed by turns.

"It is true!" she gasped. "I cannot walk. I cannot even stand up.
Oh, Dr. Renaud, this is more than weakness or fright. I am very sick,
Doctor. Why cannot I stand up?"

Renaud tore off his coat, the priest and Martin did the same. Folding
all three beside the fence where the snow was still thick and dry they
laid Miss Clairville down and watched her. Martin fetched brandy while
the entire Archambault family flocked out to see the sight, and stood
gaping and chattering until rebuked by Father Rielle. The doctor knelt
a long time at her side. Knowing her so well, he was secretly
astonished at the weakness she had shown and he dealt with her most
kindly. Tragedy had at last touched her too deeply; a latent tendency
of the heart to abnormal action had suddenly developed under pressure
of emotion and strain of shock, and he foresaw what she and the others
did not--a long and tedious illness with periods of alarming collapse
and weakness. For herself, so ill was she for the first time in her
active life, she thought more about her own condition than of her loss;
she imagined herself dying and following her lover on the same day to
the grave. The image of Ringfield too was absent from her thoughts,
which were now chiefly concentrated on her symptoms and sufferings.

"Am I not very ill?" she asked presently, after a little of the brandy
had somewhat stilled the dreadful beating of her heart, the dreadful
booming in her ears.

"Yes, mademoiselle. But you will recover."

"I have never been sick before."

"You are sure of that? Never had any nervous sensations, no tremors,
no palpitations?"

"Ah, those! Yes, frequently, but I never thought much about them.
They were part of my life, my emotional life, and natural to me.