“_I_ did! I knew it long ago; but I had good reason to suppose that his poor young wife had not long survived his loss. She has reappeared, however, I thank Heaven! And here she lies, fainting, dying, for aught I know. Margaret, dear woman, don’t stop to ask another question, but help me to save her!” anxiously exclaimed the old man. Controlling the extreme curiosity awakened by the situation, the lady knelt by the side of the sofa and began to loosen the sufferer’s clothes to facilitate breathing. “She must be got to bed at once. The parlor chamber happens to be in order. We will convey her there. Ring for two women to come and help to lift her,” were the first words with which the widow broke the silence. The commodore complied with this direction, and then came back to the side of his sister, saying: “For Heaven’s sake, Margaret, let all be done tenderly and very quietly. There must not be a nine days’ wonder created in the house.” “Of course not. I should deprecate such a state of things as much as you could.” “And, Margaret, you have a heart. I need not, therefore, beg you to be very gentle with this suffering girl when she recovers her consciousness.” “Be sure that I will treat her as I would treat my own child,” said the widow, and her sympathetic face confirmed the truth of her words. “Go and send Dorcas and Lydia here,” said the commodore to the little page who appeared in answer to the bell. The child ran on his errand, and two strong colored women made their appearance. Under the lady’s instructions Emolyn Bruce was tenderly lifted and conveyed to the parlor chamber, where she was undressed, clothed in a white wrapper and put to bed. The old commodore, who had followed the party to the chamber door without daring to enter, hovered on the outside, waiting for news. In a few minutes, however, his sister opened the door and beckoned him to come in. She led him to the side of the bed, where Emolyn lay as white and motionless as a marble effigy on a marble tomb. “I wish to consult you, brother,” whispered the widow, as they stood together looking down on the beautiful pale face before them. “Do you think there is any danger, Margaret?” anxiously inquired the veteran. “No, for I have known women to lay in fainting fits much longer than this and recover without injury; but her breath scarcely dims the glass held to her lips, and her pulse is scarcely perceptible; and I think you had better call Dr. Willet.” “The deuce of it all is that Willet has gone to the Wilderness Manor-house to see that old paralytic. He could not be brought back before night, when he will come back of his own accord. Meanwhile what _shall_ we do, Margaret?” “Use the means within our reach and wait the issue. It must have been some terrible shock that threw her into this state. May I _now_ inquire what it was, brother? You need not tell me if you do not wish to,” said the widow.