An hour after that, Dr. Sunbury, thinking miserably of poor Priscilla and the unhappy creature up-stairs, heard the wheels of Dr. Forman's buggy grinding on the gravel outside, and Mr. Thorburn's quick, firm step as he entered the house. Dr. Sunbury met him with a sinking heart, and a cold tremor that shook him like an aspen. "I came at once, as you see, my friend," began Thorburn cheerily. And then looking closer at Dr. Sunbury's white face, said, "Why, what is the matter?" Dr. Sunbury, without a word, led him back into the little office, and carefully closed the door. "Thorburn," he said, "I believe you to be a man and a Christian. Call up, therefore, all your manhood, and all your dependence on God, to bear what I have to tell you." Mr. Thorburn's dark skin grew a shade darker at these words, but he made no reply, only looking Dr. Sunbury full in the eye. "Priscilla told you, perhaps--of a woman fainting--in the road--Tuesday afternoon," Dr. Sunbury got his words out in gasps. "Yes, yes." "She is now in this house. Thorburn, she is--the wife you supposed dead." Mr. Thorburn took in as quickly what had been told him as his dying wife had done. He rose from his chair; the strong man reeled and fell, with a deep groan, and his arms outstretched over the doctor's study table. Dr. Sunbury made no offer of consolation. He covered his face with his hands and wept. After a pause, Thorburn said: "We must do what is right. My poor Priscilla!" He suddenly checked himself. Ah, it was but a little while since he had known Priscilla--and the woman up-stairs was the wife of his youth. And he had loved her well. But which one of us would rejoice at having the dead to rise from their graves? "Will you not see--" said Dr. Sunbury, after a short silence, pointing overhead, where the dying Mrs. Thorburn lay. "Now? Not yet, not yet. Give me a moment, for God's sake." "But she is dying; she has not long that she can wait for you." Thorburn rose at once. "Tell me how it was, before I see her," he asked. In a few words Dr. Sunbury told him. Just then Dr. Forman appeared. "You had best go now," he said to Thorburn. Dr. Sunbury took Mr. Thorburn's arm and led him up-stairs. Dr. Forman preceded them. As they reached the door, Thorburn caught Dr. Forman's wrist, his face quite ashy and his eyes wild, as if to ask for a moment's grace; but it was too late, the door was open, and Dr. Forman had beckoned to the nurse to leave the bedside. Thorburn closed the door after him, and walking to the bed, found himself alone with the woman that to him had risen from the dead. "Forgive me! Forgive me!" was all that Thorburn could say. "Forgive you?" asked the wife, in her old sweet voice. "Why should I not forgive you? Only, you must pity me. Think! six years of agony, to return and find--I thought until now that it was easier to die than live," she continued, feebly. "It would save so much misery if death should free you from me." "Eleanor! Eleanor!"