"Yes, we are different; and now you have made me miserable. I shall do nothing now but lie still and expect to see all my comforts vanish," and a violent fit of coughing silenced her. That afternoon she was worse; the excitement of the conversation had been too much for her. When night came on once again the terrible hæmorrhage came on. Even the nurse upbraided Margaret. "Your sister was doing so well till you went to talk to her," she said; "young people never can be made to understand how very quiet a person in Miss Rivers's state should be kept. Another attack like this might be fatal to her." All night Margaret watched and prayed alternately. Her spirits were in a feverish, excited state. She was wild with remorse one moment and in despair the next. The attack was dreadful to witness in itself, and Grace's deep terror made it all the more terrible. When morning dawned a note lay on the table addressed to Mr. Drayton. It was an appeal that might have moved any one not selfishly bent on his own end. Margaret asked him if he thought a marriage could be happy for either of them where upon her side lay no love. "I am grateful to you, but gratitude is different if you insist upon this proof. You are making me do wrong, no blessing will follow." She wrote this hoping, trusting to his generosity. But as she sent it she said to herself it was her last chance--that if her words did not move him now her sacrifice would have to be complete. Grace lay prostrate, too languid to take notice of anything, too much exhausted to be able to speak. The doctor was distressed, and poor Margaret felt an indirect reproach was conveyed to her in the urgent words to the nurse about "Keep Miss Rivers quiet; agitation, the least excitement, will prove fatal." "And this step, by which alone it seems I can save her, kills my life also," Margaret breathed softly to herself. Mr. Drayton did not, in the least, understand all the poor child meant to convey in her letter; the one fact made all others of no account--Margaret would marry him, and he had gained his point. Mr. Sandford would have seen something in his face, had he been there, which Margaret had seen long ago. His steel-blue eyes gleamed with triumph and a curious shifting light. He went to the "Sun," as soon as he possibly could, and Margaret read her fate in his expression; and her heart seemed to die within her. * * * * * Some weeks passed away. Where had Margaret learned all the caution she showed now? She was going to make a sacrifice. The instinct of self-preservation made her write to Mr. Sandford; she insisted upon seeing him at once, and Mrs. Dorriman she entreated to come to her. Mr. Drayton was very much annoyed when he found what she had done. "They will take you away," he said; "they will come between us." "I have given you my promise," she said, coldly, "is not that enough?"