"And in one moment--in the twinkling of an eye, I was dashed from the most perfect happiness into the most terrible misery. I thought my home was waiting for me; I thought my husband's heart yearned for me--and without one word of warning--I beheld myself an outcast on the face of the earth--a being whose death would bless the man she loved!" Her voice grew strong in its intensity as she spoke. Thorburn leaned on the bed, his arm around her, and great drops upon his pallid face. A groan burst from him. The dying can not weep, but there was a terrible and piercing pity for herself and for him in Mrs. Thorburn's uncertain voice and her misty eyes. Thorburn tried to tell her that he had not forgotten her--that he loved her when he thought her dead--but it was only half expressed, and Mrs. Thorburn checked him gently. "We have only a little while to be together," she said. "I felt myself to be dying the instant I felt myself to be alive. I have been dying for three days--and I tried to die without seeing you--but I could not--I could not!" Down-stairs Dr. Sunbury and Dr. Forman conversed in whispers, Dr. Forman holding his watch in his hand. On the stroke of the half-hour he went up-stairs. As he entered the room he saw Thorburn half leaning on the bed, while Mrs. Thorburn's head rested on his breast. The doctor took one keen look at his patient, and suddenly whipping out his lancet, called, loudly: "Jane! Jane! come at once. I want to give Mrs. Thorburn a hypoderm of brandy." Dr. Sunbury heard the call, and came too. He obeyed a look from the doctor, and taking Thorburn by the arm, almost dragged him from the room. Jane came with the brandy, with salts, with the doctor's electrical appliances; but it was too late. Mrs. Thorburn breathed an hour or two longer, and then, without a word, a look, or a sigh, stopped breathing. "It is all over," said Dr. Forman, going out on the landing to speak to Dr. Sunbury. Thorburn went away the night of his wife's death. To Dr. Sunbury was intrusted the terrible task of telling Priscilla. He came forth from that interview ten years older, and tottering as he walked. The affair was hushed up, and the world at large was no wiser about it. Thorburn and Priscilla left East Harrowby, ostensibly on account of Thorburn's breaking down. Before they left, a marriage ceremony, the most painful that could be imagined, was performed between them in Dr. Sunbury's study, with Dr. Forman for a witness. But never afterward were Thorburn and Priscilla happy. They were good, they loved each other, they were thrown upon each other for comfort--but between them sat the ghost of the dead woman, who had come to claim her happiness, and found another woman in possession of it. KAINTUCK.