The two young men looked at each other in silence with a certain awe. All the dreadful interval which had passed between this Sunday afternoon and the day of Susan's return, had been a blank to Mrs. Vincent so far as the outer world was concerned. Her daughter's illness and danger had rapt her altogether out of ordinary life. She took up her burden only where it had dropped off from her in the consuming anxiety for Susan's life and reason, in which all other fears had been lost. Just at the point where she had forgotten it, where she had still faced the world with the despairing assumption that all would be right when Arthur returned, she bethought herself now of that frightful shadow which had never been revealed in its full horror to her eyes. Now that Arthur's assurance relieved her heart of that, the widow took up her old position instinctively. She knew nothing of the comments in the newspapers, the vulgar publicity to which poor Susan's story had come. She wanted to impress upon Dr. Rider's mind, by way of making up for her son's imprudence, that he was specially trusted, and that she did not mind speaking before him because he had seen all their trouble. Such was the poor mother's idea as she sat upon the bed where they had carried her, wiping the tears of joy from her wan and worn face. She forgot all the weary days that had come and gone. She took up the story just at the point where she, after all her martyrdom and strenuous upholding of Arthur's cause, had suddenly sunk into Susan's sick-room and left it. Now she reappeared with Arthur's banner once more in her hands--always strong in that assumption that nobody could doubt as to Susan, and that Arthur had but to come home to set all right. Dr. Rider held up his warning finger when he saw Vincent about to speak. This delusion was salvation to the widow. "But I must go back to Susan, doctor," said Mrs. Vincent. "If she should wake and find a stranger there!--though Mrs. Rider is so kind. But I am much stronger than I look--watching never does me any harm; and now that my mind is easy-- People don't require much sleep at my time of life. And, Arthur, when my dear child sees me, she will know that all is well--all is well," repeated the widow, with trembling lips. "I must go to Susan, doctor; think if she should wake!" "But she must not wake," said Dr. Rider; "and if you stay quietly here she will not wake, for my wife will keep everything still. You will have a great deal to do for her when she is awake and conscious. Now you must rest." "I shall have a great deal to do for her? Dr. Rider means she will want nursing, Arthur," said Mrs. Vincent, "after such an illness; but she might miss me even in her sleep, or she might----"