Dr. Eben had his hand on the latch of the gate. At that instant, the cottage door opened, and “Tantibba,” in her white cap and gray gown, and with her scarlet basket on her arm, appeared on the threshold. Dr. Eben lifted his hat courteously, and advanced. “I was just about to take the liberty of knocking at your door, madame,” he said, “to ask if you would give me a few of your lavender blossoms.” As he began to speak, “Tantibba's” basket fell from her hand. As he advanced towards her, her eyes grew large with terror, and all color left her cheeks. “Why do I terrify her so?” thought Dr. Eben, quickening his steps, and hastening to reassure her, by saying still more gently: “Pray forgive me for intruding. I”--the words died on his lips: he stood like one stricken by paralysis; his hands falling helplessly by his side, and his eyes fixed in almost ghastly dread on this gray-haired woman, from whose white lips came, in Hetty's voice, the cry: “Eben! oh! Eben!” Hetty was the first to recover herself. Seeing with terror how rigid and pale her husband's face had become; how motionless, like one turned to stone, he stood--she hastened down the steps, and, taking him by the hand, said, in a trembling whisper: “Oh, come into the house, Eben.” Mechanically he followed her; she still leading him by the hand, like a child. Like a child, or rather like a blind man, he sat down in the chair which she placed for him. His eyes did not move from her face; but they looked almost like sightless eyes. Hetty stood before him, with her hands clasped tight. Neither spoke. At last Dr. Eben said feebly: “Are you Hetty?” “Yes, Eben,” answered Hetty, with a tearless sob. He did not speak again: still with a strange unseeing look, his eyes roved over her face, her figure. Then he reached out one hand and touched her gown; curiously, he lifted the soft gray serge, and fingered it; then he said again: “Are you Hetty?” “Oh, Eben! dear Eben! indeed I am,” broke forth Hetty. “Do forgive me. Can't you?” “Forgive you?” repeated Dr. Eben, helplessly. “What for?” “Oh, my God! he thinks we are both dead: what shall I do to rouse him?” thought Hetty, all the nurse in her coming to the rescue of the woman and wife. “For going away and leaving you, Eben,” she said in a clear resolute voice. “I wasn't drowned. I came away.” Dr. Eben smiled; a smile which terrified Hetty more than his look or voice or words had done.