Early the next morning, a man was sent in haste to Cedar Grove, which he never reached, for the destroyer met him on the road, and in one of the cabins of a neighboring plantation, he died, forgetting, in the intensity of his sufferings, the errand on which he had been sent; and as those who attended him knew nothing of Mrs. Lansing’s being at the Pines, it was not until the second day after the appearance of the cholera that she learned the fate of her servant. In a state bordering almost upon distraction, she waited for her brother, shuddering with fear whenever a new case was reported to her, and refusing to visit the sufferers, although among them were some who had played with her in childhood; and one, an old grey-haired man, who had saved her from a watery grave, when on the Savannah River she had fallen overboard. But there was no place for gratitude in her selfish heart, and the miserable creatures were left to die alone, uncheered by the presence of a pale face, save little Jessie, who won her mother’s reluctant consent to be with them, and who, all the day long, went from cabin to cabin, soothing the sick and dying by her presence, and emboldening others by her own intrepidity. Towards sunset, Mrs. Lansing herself was seized with the malady, and with a wild shriek, she called on Ada to help her; but that young lady was herself too much intimidated to heed the call, and in an adjoining room she sat with camphor at her nose and brandy at her side, until a fierce, darting pain warned her that she, too, was a victim. No longer afraid of Mrs. Lansing, she made no resistance when borne to the same apartment, where for hours they lay, bemoaning the fate which had brought them there, and trembling as they thought of the probable result. On Mrs. Lansing’s mind there was a heavy load, and once, when the cold perspiration stood thickly upon her face, she ordered Jessie and Dinah from the room, while she confessed to Ada the sin of which she had been guilty in deceiving both her brother and Rose. “It was a wicked falsehood,” said she, “and if you survive me, you must tell them so, will you?” Ada nodded in token that she would, and then, thinking her own conscience might be made easier by a similar confession, she told how she had thought to injure Rose in Mr. Delafield’s estimation, and also of the blister, which had drawn on Hagar’s back instead of her own! This done, the two ladies felt greatly relieved, and as the cholera in their case had been induced mostly by _fear_, it began ere long to yield to the efficient treatment of Dinah, who to her housekeeping qualities added that of being a skillful nurse. Towards morning they were pronounced decidedly better, and as Jessie was asleep and Dinah nodding in her chair, Mrs. Lansing lifted her head from her pillow, saying to Ada, “If you please, you needn’t tell what I told you last night, when I thought I was going to die!”