When Pansy’s wound had been dressed she revived, and found her mother and sister by her side. They greeted each other with solemn, tender sadness, and then Pansy recognized the physician, and asked him quietly if she were going to die. “I hope not. Your wound is a painful one, but not necessarily dangerous. With good nursing, you will recover,” he replied pleasantly, and then he went down to see about Alice. Pansy lay for a long time in silence, then asked that Willie might come to her. When he came into the room, it seemed as if years had gone over his head, he was so changed by his grief and remorse. If she knew that his hand had fired that fatal shot, she made no sign of her knowledge. Greeting him with tender sisterly love, she drew him down to her, and whispered softly: “Go to Franklin Street, and tell Colonel Falconer to come with you to see his wife. Yes, I am his wife, Willie,” as he started wildly. “Do not tell him I was wounded. It would startle him too much. Only ask him to come to me.” She realized that further concealment of her past, after all that had happened would be useless. She must confess all, and throw herself on Colonel Falconer’s mercy. CHAPTER XXXI. AN AMAZED HUSBAND. Willie Laurens found Colonel Falconer pacing up and down the walk in front of his house, watching impatiently for his wife’s return from the errand of kindness on which she had vaguely told the maid she was going. It was no wonder he was impatient, for it lacked scarcely ten minutes to train time. The carriage was waiting for Pansy, and Phebe, the maid, was already seated within it. “You are Colonel Falconer, sir?” Willie Laurens asked politely. “Yes. Have you any business with me?” “A message from your wife. She wishes that I should conduct you to her side.” “Has anything happened to my wife?” exclaimed Colonel Falconer excitedly. “You will soon know if you will accompany me,” returned Willie evasively. “Where is she?” “At my mother’s house on Church Hill.” Colonel Falconer gave a keen, scrutinizing glance into the young man’s face by the light afforded from a gas lamp near by. Then he started violently. In the boyish beauty of Willie’s face he detected a strong likeness to his wife. “Your name?” he exclaimed. “Willie Laurens.” “Are you related to my wife?” “That is for her to say, Colonel Falconer,” replied the young man modestly. “But I don’t understand this at all. My wife should be here to accompany me at once. She will miss her train,” exclaimed Colonel Falconer testily. “I think she expected that, sir,” was the answer he received from Willie, who began to grow nervous as he scrutinized the big, good-looking colonel, wondering what he would say if he knew that the slight youth before him had attempted his wife’s life. “He would strike me down at his feet in a moment,” he decided nervously, and, in order to ward off all further questions, he said: