"I'm glad to hear that; it rather increases one's faith in human nature. I didn't know whether they or any one would care much if I died." "Mr. Morton!" she said reproachfully. "Oh, I remember my promise to you. If, like a cat, I had lost my ninth life, I would live after your words. Indeed I imagine that you were the only reason I did live. It was your will that saved me, for I hadn't enough sense or spirit left to do more than flicker out." "Do you think so?" she asked eagerly, and a rich glow of pleasure overspread her face. "I do indeed. You have had a subtle power over me from the first, which I cannot resist, and don't wish to." "I must go now," she said hastily. "Please wait," I entreated. "I've a message for Mrs. Yocomb." She stood irresolutely near the door. "I wish you to tell her--why is it getting dark so suddenly?" "I fear we're going to have a shower," and she glanced apprehensively toward the window. "When have I seen that look on your face before?" I asked quickly. "You had a message for Mrs. Yocomb?" "Yes. I wish you would make her realize a little of my unbounded gratitude, which every day increases. In fact, I can't understand the kindness of this family, it is so hearty, so genuine. Why, I was an entire stranger the other day. Then Adah and--pardon me--you also used expressions which puzzle me very much. I can't understand how I became ill so suddenly. I was feeling superbly that Sunday evening, and then everything became a blank. Mrs. Yocomb, from a fear of disquieting me, won't say much about it. The impression that a storm or something occurred that I can't recall, haunts me. You are one that couldn't deceive if you tried." "You needn't think I've anything to tell when Mrs. Yocomb hasn't," she answered, with a gay laugh. "Miss Warren," I said gravely, "that laugh isn't natural. I never heard you laugh so before. Something _did_ happen." A flash of lightning gleamed across the window, and the girl gave an involuntary and apprehensive start. Almost as instantaneously the events I had forgotten passed through my mind. In strong and momentary excitement I rose on my elbow, and looked for their confirmation in her troubled face. "Oh, forget--forget it all!" she exclaimed, in a low, distressed voice, and she came and stood before me with clasped hands. "Would to God I had died!" I said, despairingly, and I sank back faint and crushed. "I had no right to speak--to think of you as I did. Good-by." "Mr. Morton--" "Please leave me now. I'm too weak to be a man, and I would not lose your esteem." "But you will get well--you promised me that." "Well!" I said, in a low, bitter tone. "When can I ever be well? Good-by." "Mr. Morton, would you blight my life?" she asked, almost indignantly. "Am I to blame for this?" "Nor am I to blame. It was inevitable. Curses on a world in which one can err so fatally."