Graham kissed her hand and left the room, and the servants carried her to her apartment. Mrs. Mayburn and the physician soon joined him in the library, which was haunted by a memory that would shake his soul to his dying day. The physician in a cheerful mood said, "I now predict a decided change for the better. It would almost seem that she had had some shock which has broken the evil spell; and this natural flow of tears is better than all the medicine in the world;" and then he and Mrs. Mayburn explained how Grace's manner had been growing so strange and unnatural that they feared her mind was giving way. "I fear you were right," Graham replied sadly; and he told them of the scene he had witnessed, and produced the vial of laudanum. The physician was much shocked, but Mrs. Mayburn had already guessed the truth from her nephew's words and manner when she first discovered him. "Neither Grace nor her father must ever know of this," she said, with a shudder. "Certainly not; but Dr. Markham should know. As her physician, he should know the whole truth." "I think that phase of her trouble has passed," said the doctor, thoughtfully; "but, as you say, I must be on my guard. Pardon me, you do not look well yourself. Indeed, you look faint;" for Graham had sunk into a chair. "I fear I have been losing considerable blood," said Graham, carelessly; "and now that this strong excitement is passing, it begins to tell. I owe my leave of absence to a wound." "A wound!" cried his aunt, coming to his side. "Why did you not speak of it?" "Indeed, there has been enough to speak of beyond this trifle. Take a look at my shoulder, doctor, and do what you think best." "And here is enough to do," was his reply as soon as Graham's shoulder was bared: "an ugly cut, and all broken loose by your exertions this evening. You must keep very quiet and have good care, or this reopened wound will make you serious trouble." "Well, doctor, we have so much serious trouble on hand that a little more won't matter much." His aunt inspected the wound with grim satisfaction, and then said, sententiously: "I'm glad you have got it, Alford, for it will keep you home and divert Grace's thoughts. In these times a wound that leaves the heart untouched may be useful; and nothing cures a woman's trouble better than having to take up the troubles of others. I predict a deal of healing for Grace in your wound." "All which goes to prove," added the busy physician, "that woman's nature is different from man's." When he was gone, having first assured the major over and over again that all danger was past, Graham said, "Aunt, Grace's hair is as white as yours." "Yes; it turned white within a week after she learned the certainty of her husband's death." "Would that I could have died in Hilland's place!" "Yes," said the old lady, bitterly; "you were always too ready to die."