The house seemed to be in some extraordinary commotion. Servants ran hither and thither with a look of consternation on their faces, and Madame de Castella, when Mary reached her presence, was walking about in her dressing-gown, sobbing hysterically, her breakfast cold and untouched at her side, and her maid, Susanne, standing by her. "What is the matter?" cried Mary, in terror. "Oh, it is dreadful!" ejaculated Susanne, by way of answer. "Unhappy Mademoiselle Adeline!" "She is dying!" sobbed Madame de Castella. "My darling child! my only child! She is dying, and I am the cause. Heaven forgive me!" "Oh, Susanne!" exclaimed Miss Carr, turning to the maid, "what is it all?" Susanne and Madame explained between them, both weeping, the latter violently. They were engaged, on the previous night, _Mardi gras_, to "assist" at the crowning ball of the Carnival; but when it became time to dress, Adeline felt so ill and weary that she gave up the task in despair. Madame de Castella urged her to exert herself and shake the illness off, but the Signor interfered, and said Adeline had better go to bed. And to bed she went, at nine o'clock. Madame departed at ten for the ball, but came home before twelve, anxious about Adeline. She went into the latter's bedroom, and found her coughing violently, with every appearance of serious illness upon her. Adeline could say nothing, except that she had coughed like that for many nights. Terror-stricken, the unhappy lady alarmed the household, and the medical attendant was sent for. He came at once, aroused out of his slumbers. He thought consumption had set its seal upon Adeline. The seeds of it were, no doubt, inherent in her constitution, though hitherto unsuspected, and the gay scenes she had indulged in, that winter, had brought them forth: the exposures to the night air, to heat and cold, the thin dresses, the fatigue, and the broken rest. He did not say she would not be restored to health; but he wished for a consultation. So, when the early hours gave place to day, the faculty were called together, both French and English. They said just what the family doctor had said, and no more. "I suppose I may not ask to see Adeline," said Mary Carr, when she had learnt these particulars. "Not for the world," interposed the lady's-maid. "Perfect quiet is ordered. Mademoiselle has now a blister on her chest, and a sick-nurse is with her." But, just then, Louise, Adeline's maid, came into the room, with her young lady's love to Miss Carr, and an inquiry why she was so long going up to see her. "There!" sobbed Madame de Castella, "they have told her you are here. Just go to her for five minutes. I rely upon you not to stay longer." Mary Carr followed Louise into Adeline's room, and went on tiptoe to her bedside. The tears came into her eyes when she saw her lying there, so pale and wan.