"Dead!" thought Frances, as she gazed at the pale inanimate form, "I wish she was; how I hate her; but for her none of these dreadful thoughts would enter my head. Am I not a murderess, wishing her dead? and it is all her fault, all; she has taken his love from me, and in taking that, has made me wicked, and put all these cruel revengeful feelings in my heart." She bathed her with the Eau-de-Cologne Charles brought, even dashed some of the cold water into her face; but all to no purpose; not a sign; not a movement of returning life gave Amy; the shock had been too great; she lay as dead. As Charles stood and watched all the efforts Frances made, as he thought, so indifferently, he grew impatient. "Where is Anne? or Mrs. Hopkins?" exclaimed he, "confound that woman! she's never in the way when she's wanted," and he was for darting off again, only Frances restrained him. "Do not call either of them," said she, "even you must not remain here when Miss Neville returns to consciousness." "I shall stay, whatever happens," he replied, decidedly. Had he made up his mind to tell Amy he loved her? "She would not like it," she replied, "would any woman like to think such a secret was found out?" "What secret?" "That of her love for him." "For him! For who?" "I thought you knew," replied Frances, quietly. Too quietly, for her apathy maddened him, and he exclaimed angrily. "For God's sake, Frances, speak out, you'll drive me mad with your cold replies and words!" "Hush! Go away, she is coming to." "I will not stir!" he replied, "until you tell me why she fainted." "She saw them bring Mr. Vavasour into the hall, and--" "How could she tell it was him?" he asked, suspiciously, with a half-doubt on his mind. "I do not ask you to believe me," replied Frances haughtily, "you asked me to answer you, and I have done so." "Not my last question." "I should have thought a lady's word would have been sufficient; but as it is not so, you had better ask Joe, that man that comes here sometimes with Grant. I heard him tell Miss Neville it was Mr. Vavasour that had been killed, and then--" "Then?" he asked. "She fainted." Whatever Charles thought, he said not a word; a determined, despairing expression stole over his face; he looked hard at Frances as if he would read her very soul, but she returned his look, and flinched not. Presently a faint colour returned into Amy's face; he moved away, placed the glass he still held on the table, and said slowly, for even the tone of his voice had altered, and was unsteady and husky, "Tell her _he_ is not dead,--not much hurt, even--" And without a look, or even a glance at Amy, he went with a slow, uncertain step across the room. As he reached the door, Amy moved slightly and sighed, but ere she opened her eyes, the door had closed on his retreating form, and he was gone.