"Laws, Ann, but you have been dreadfully sick. You had fever, and talked out of your head. Henry was here every evening. He said that once afore, when you took the fevers, you was out of your head, just the same way. He brought you flowers; there they are in the vase," and she handed me two beautiful bouquets. In this pleasant way she talked on until I had satisfied the cravings of an empty stomach with the niceties she had brought me. That evening Henry came, and remained with me about half an hour. Miss Nancy warned him that it was not well to excite me much. So with considerable reluctance he shortened his visit. CHAPTER XXXVIX. GRADUAL RETURN OF HAPPY SPIRITS--BRIGHTER PROSPECTS--AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. When I began to gain strength Miss Nancy took me out in a carriage of evenings; and had it not been for the melancholy recollections that hung like a pall around my heart, life would have been beautiful to me. As we drove slowly through the brightly-lighted streets, and looked in at the gaudy and flaunting windows, where the gayest and most elegant articles of merchandise were exhibited, I remarked to Miss Nancy, with a sigh, "Life might be made a very gay and cheerful thing--almost a pleasure, were it not for the wickedness of men." "Ah, yes, it might, indeed," she replied, and the big tears rested upon her eyelids. One evening when we had returned from a drive, I noticed that she ate very little supper, and her hand trembled violently. "You are sick, Miss Nancy," I said. "Yes, Ann, I feel strangely," she replied. "To-morrow you must go for my brother, and I will have a lawyer to draw up my will. It would be dreadful if I were to die suddenly without making a provision for you; then the bonds of slavery would be riveted upon you, for by law you would pass into my brother's possession." "Don't trouble yourself about it now, dear Miss Nancy," I said; "your life is more precious than my liberty." "Not so, my good girl. The dawn of your life was dark, I hope that the close may be bright. The beginning of mine was full of flowers; the close will be serene, I trust; but ah, I've outlived many a blessed hope that was a very rainbow in my dreaming years." I had always thought Miss Nancy's early life had been filled with trouble; else why and whence her strange, subdued, melancholy nature! How much I would have given had she told me her history; yet I would not add to her sadness by asking her to tell me of it. The next morning I went for Mr. Moodwell, who, at Miss Nancy's instance, summoned a notary. The will was drawn up and witnessed by two competent persons.