There was a short silence. "But where am I? Not at home, I know." She did not reply, and he repeated the question more earnestly. "You are in my house, Eugene; let that satisfy you." His fingers closed over hers tightly, and soon he slept. The sun was high in the sky when he again unclosed his eyes and found Dr. Asbury feeling his pulse. His mind was still bewildered, and he looked around him wonderingly. "How do you feel, Graham?" said the doctor. "Feel! as if I had been standing on my head. What is the matter with me, doctor? Have I been sick?" "Well--yes; you have not been exactly well, and feel stupid after a long nap. Take a spoonful of this nectar I have prepared for you. No wry faces, man! It will clear your head." Eugene attempted to raise himself, but fell back exhausted, while, for the first time, he noticed his arm firmly incased in wood and bandages. "What have you been doing to my arm? Why, I can't move it. I should- -" "Oh, don't trouble yourself, Graham; you injured it, and I bound it up, that is all. When gentlemen amuse themselves with such gymnastic feats as you performed, they must expect a little temporary inconvenience from crushed bones and overstrained muscles. Beulah, mind my directions about silence and quiet." The doctor walked out to escape further questioning. Eugene looked at his useless, stiffened arm and then at Beulah, saying anxiously: "What is the matter with me?" "You were thrown out of a buggy and fractured your arm in the fall." She thought it best to tell the truth at once. Memory flew back to her deserted throne, and dimly the events of that evening's revel passed through his mind. A flush of shame rose to his temples, and, turning his head toward the wall, he hid his face in the pillow. Then Beulah heard a deep, shuddering sigh and a groan of remorseful agony. After a long silence, he said, in a tone of humiliation that drew tears to her eyes: "How long have I been here?" She told him the number of days, and he immediately asked, "Have I been in any danger?" "Yes; very great danger; out that has all passed now, and if you will only be composed and careful you will soon be strong again." "I heard my father talking to you. Who else is here?" He looked at her with eager interest. "No one else, except our kind matron. Mr. Graham came as soon as the letter reached him, and has not left the house since." A look of indescribable sorrow and shame swept over his countenance as he continued bitterly: "And did Antoinette know all at once? Stop, Beulah; tell me the miserable truth. Did she know all and still remain away?" "She knew all that had been communicated to Mr. Graham when he came; and he has written to her every day. He is now writing to inform her that you are better." She shrank from giving the pain she was conscious her words inflicted.