How the hours of my journey went by I can scarcely tell. Passengers got in and got out; and one elderly lady, with a kind face, insisted on my taking a draught of wine-and-water from her travelling-flask. I have but a vague remembrance of the gentle words that she spoke, warning me not to put too severe a strain upon my health; but I can distinctly recall her pitying smile, and the parting pressure of her hand. God bless her, wherever she is; and if ever there should come to her, or hers, a time of bitter need, may that motherly kindness be paid back fourfold! It is said to be a cold world; and yet, if the truth were told, I believe that there are many who could tell of the good deeds done to them by utter strangers. Has not many a painful journey been brightened by the company of some unknown friend, who will never meet us on this earth again? [Illustration] CHAPTER XVI. A FEVERISH DREAM. THE sweet dusk of a summer night was fast stealing over my old village, when I took my way through the beautiful lanes once more. When I had given up my ticket, and turned away from the quiet station, I was distinctly conscious of a strange confusion of ideas. I could not remember the name of the old inn which had been familiar to me as a child; nor could I recall the place where it stood. Was it not somewhere on the outskirts of the village? Was it at the top or at the bottom of the straggling street? Perhaps if I were too stupid to find the inn—where I had intended to pass the night—I might manage to drag myself to the rectory. Do what I would, tax my brain to the uttermost, I could not tell whether the rector's aunt were living or dead. Yet I could plainly recollect happy hours spent in the study of the kind bachelor rector, who had allowed me to turn over his books to my heart's content. The good old aunt had been his housekeeper for many a peaceful year, and little Louie was always her chief favourite. Would she greet me with a kiss and blessing, and lead me to rest in the pleasant guest chamber to-night? Alas! The kind old maiden lady had been sleeping in her appointed corner of the churchyard for two years and more; and the rector, influenced by Lady Waterville, had been much offended by my imprudent marriage. But, in my present confused state, I could not tell who was living and who was dead. The fragrance of honeysuckle, rich and over-powering, greeted me as I passed along the lane. I stopped to gather some of the sprays, wet with dew, that flung their blossoms lavishly over the hedge. Miss Drury had always been fond of honeysuckle. I suddenly determined to gather a good handful and carry it to the rectory. Then I would ask for her, and put the flowers into her hands, and tell her that little Louie had come back, sick and weary, to beg for a night's rest.