She gave utterance to a low, distressing wail, and rocked herself, murmuring some incoherent words. "Olga, your mother has come, and unless you wish her to hear you, and come in, do try to compose yourself." Shuddering at the mention of her mother, she grew silent, moody, and suffered Regina to undress her. After a long while, during which she appeared absolutely deaf to all appeals, she rose, smiled strangely, and threw herself across the bed; but the eyes were beginning to sparkle, and now and then she laughed almost hysterically. When an hour had passed, and no sound came from the prostrate figure, Regina leaned over to look at her, and discovered that she was whispering rapidly some unintelligible words. Once she startled up, exclaiming: "Don't have such a hot fire! My head is scorching." Regina watched her anxiously, softly stroking one of her hands, trying to soothe her to sleep; but after two o'clock, when she grew more restless and incoherent in her muttering, the young nurse felt assured she was sinking into delirium, and decided to consult Mrs. Palma. Concealing the shawl and bonnet, and gathering up the most conspicuous fragments of glass on the hearth, she put them out of sight, and hurried to Mrs. Palma's room. She was astonished to find her still awake, sitting before a table, and holding a note in her hand. "What is the matter, Regina?" "Olga has come home, and I fear she is very ill. Certainly she is delirious." "Oh! then she has heard it already! She must have seen the paper. I knew nothing of it until to-night, when Erle's hasty note from Philadelphia reached me, after I left the opera. I dreaded the effect upon my poor, unfortunate child. Where is she?" "In my room." CHAPTER XXVII.