"You are ill, very ill, Miss Aubrey," said Gammon, with alarm, rising from his chair. She also arose, rather hastily; turned towards the window, and with feeble trembling hands tried to open it, as if to relieve her faintness by the fresh air. But it was too late; poor Kate had been at length overpowered, and Gammon reached her just in time to receive her inanimate figure, which sank into his arms. Never in his life had he been conscious of the feelings he that moment experienced, as he felt her pressure against his arm and knee, and gazed upon her beautiful but death-like features. He felt as though he had been brought into momentary contact with an angel. Every fibre within him thrilled. She moved not; she breathed not. He dared not kiss her lip, her cheek, her forehead, but raised her soft white hand to his lips, and kissed it with indescribable tenderness and reverence. Then, after a moment's pause of irresolution, he gently drew her to the sofa, and laid her down, supporting her head and applying her vinaigrette, till a deep-drawn sigh evidenced returning consciousness. Before she had opened her eyes, or could have become aware of the assistance he had rendered her, he had withdrawn to a respectful distance, and was gazing at her with deep anxiety. It was several minutes before her complete restoration--which, however, the fresh air entering through the windows, which Gammon hastily threw open, added to the incessant use of her vinaigrette, greatly accelerated. "I hardly know, sir," she commenced in a very low and faint tone of voice, and looking languidly at him, "whether I really heard you say, or only dreamed that I heard you say, something most extraordinary about Yatton?" "I pray you, madam, to wait till you are completely restored; but it was indeed no dream--it was my voice which you heard utter the words you allude to; and when you can bear it, I am ready to repeat them as the words, indeed, of truth and soberness." "I am ready now, sir--I beg you will say quickly what you have to say," replied Miss Aubrey, with returning firmness of tone and calmness of manner; at the same time passing her snowy handkerchief feebly over her forehead. He repeated what he had said before. She listened with increasing excitement of manner; her emotions at length overmastered her, and she burst into tears, and wept for some moments unrestrainedly. Gammon gazed at her in silence; and then, unable to bear the sight of her sufferings, turned aside his head, and gazed towards the opposite corner of the room. How little he thought, that the object on which his eyes accidentally settled, a most splendid harp, had been, only a few days before, presented to Miss Aubrey by Mr. Delamere! "What misery, Miss Aubrey, has the sight of your distress occasioned me!" said Gammon, at length; "and yet why should my communication have distressed you?"