“As how should ’ee, indeed, darling? ’Ee knowed nothing about it! Now, don’t talk any more, and don’t even think, if ’ee can help it; but lie still until I bring ’ee some strong beef tea to nourish ’ee and give strength,” said the good woman, as she laid the girl’s head back on the pillow and drew the counterpane up to her chin. But a change came over Gloria’s face. Dark memory, like a cloud, arose and overcast it; yet she mistook the reality for a dream, and she shuddered as she said: “Oh, dee-ar Granny Lindsay, don’t go yet! Give me your hand, and let me hold you fast! I am frightened—I am frightened——” “What is the matter with ’ee, dearie?” inquired the sympathetic woman, as she gave her hand, which the girl clasped spasmodically, and held fast. “Oh, Granny, Granny Lindsay, I have had such a horrid, horrid nightmare! I dreamed that I was drowning, and, oh, I saw and felt it all, as if it had been real! Oh, Granny Lindsay, don’t leave me yet, but tell me what has happened, and how I came to be here? Have I been ill a long time?—and delirious? I have heard of people being so ill and delirious that they could know nothing of the passage of time. Uncle was so, you know, after auntie died. Have I been so long?” “No, dearie, ’ee couldn’t talk so fast, if ’ee had been,” replied the dame, with a smile. “Then what has happened, and how is it that I am here instead of at home?” “’Ee has had a ducking in the sea, lassie, no worse. ’Ee was swept off the Rogue’s Neck by the tide, when ’ee was too late in trying to cross, and ’ee might have——” “Oh, yes, yes, yes, it was no nightmare, but an awful fact!” murmured the girl to herself, as she pressed her hands upon her face. “And ’ee might have been drowned sure enough if Davie hadn’t seen ’ee from his boat and picked ’ee up, dearie.” “David Lindsay?” breathed the girl. “Ay, dearie, David Lindsay. He picked ’ee up and brought ’ee home here, because it was so much nearer than the hall, ’ee knows, dearie.” “David Lindsay saved my life!” murmured the girl, dreamily. “Ay, little lady, he did; and so ’ee got no worse harm than a cold ducking—though indeed ’ee was quite insensible, and seemed lifeless when ’ee was brought here in the arms of Davie. But ’ee’s all right now, dearie.” “David Lindsay saved my life!” reiterated the girl, dwelling fondly on the words, and on the thought. “Eh! lass, surely yes, and we must thank the Lord that ’ee was saved.” “Yes; and David Lindsay, too! Oh! I am pleased that it was he, my old playmate, and no other. What will uncle say now?” muttered the girl, still dreamily. “Eh! dearie, he would say that ’ee ought to take some nourishing food immediately. Ain’t ’ee hungry now, say?” “Yes,” promptly replied Gloria. “Now ’ee knows all about it, ’ee’ll not be afeard to let me go?” “Oh, no!” said Gloria, smiling; for she was every moment growing better. The dame brought her the beef tea and dry toast from the fire, and made her take that first, saying: