At her frantic summons, out from the kitchen rushed the old woman, followed by several of her satellites, all screaming at once to know what was the matter, and wild with astonishment at the sight of a stranger in the garden. "Quick! quick!" cried Sarah. "Your master has been taken with a fit; come and carry him into the house. One of you run for a doctor." "Oh, de laws! oh, dear! oh, dear!" resounded on every side; but Sarah directed them with so much energy that the women, aided by an old negro who had been roused by the disturbance, conveyed their master into the house, and laid him upon a bed in one of the lower rooms. "Where is your mistress?" questioned Sarah. "Oh, she's gwine out," sobbed the cook; "oh, my poor ole massar, my poor ole massar!" "Have you sent for the doctor?" "Yes, young miss, yes; he'll be here in a minit; bress yer pooty face." Sarah busied herself over the insensible man, applying every remedy that she could remember of having seen her mother use when her grandfather was ill, and really did the very things that ought to have been done. It was not long before the doctor arrived, bled his patient freely, praised Sarah's presence of mind, and very soon the old gentleman returned to consciousness. Sarah heard one of the servants exclaim: "Oh, dar's missus! praise de Lord!" A sudden feeling of shyness seized the girl, and she stole out of the room and went into the garden, determined to escape unseen. But before she reached the arbor she heard one of the servants calling after her. "Young miss! young miss! Please to wait; ole missus wants to speak to you." Sarah turned and walked toward the house, ready to burst into tears with timidity and excitement. But the lady whom she had so longed to know, came down the steps and moved toward her, holding out her hand. She was very pale, and shaking from head to foot; but she spoke with a certain calmness, which it was evident she would retain under the most trying circumstances. "I can not thank you," she said; "if it had not been for you, I should never have seen my husband alive again." Sarah began to sob, the old lady held out her arms, and the frightened girl actually fell into them. There they stood for a few moments, weeping in each other's embrace, and by those very tears establishing a closer intimacy than years of common intercourse would have done. "How did you happen to see him fall?" asked the old lady. "I was looking out of my window," replied Sarah, pointing to her open casement, "and when I saw it I ran over at once." "You are a pupil of Madame Monot's, then?" "Yes--and, oh my, I must go back! They will scold me dreadfully for being away so long." "Do not be afraid," said Mrs. Danforth, keeping fast hold of her hand when she tried to break away. "I will make your excuses to Madame; come into the house. I can not let you go yet." She led Sarah into the house, and seated her in an easy chair in the old-fashioned sitting-room.