In that darkened chamber, and in the midst of physical suffering and weakness, Carolyn had had no opportunity of ascertaining the extent of the ravages the disease had made in her beauty—if indeed she knew the nature of the former, or thought about the latter. But as she convalesced, and became able to sit up in bed and converse, she felt an invalid’s childish curiosity to look in the glass, and frequently requested her gentle nurse to hand her one. But Catherine, dreading the effect of the shock, steadily refused to comply with her wishes in that respect, and perseveringly kept the room darkened. And the sick girl, too weak to persist long in any controversy, yielded the point. But one day, while Catherine was at her breakfast, and old Darkey supplying her place by the bedside of the patient, Carolyn said in a tone that admitted of no denial, or even delay— “Darkey, hand me that hand-glass from my dressing-table.” And the old woman impulsively, thoughtlessly obeyed her, and brought it. Carolyn was propped up in bed. She took the mirror, gave one interested look into it—plucked off her little cap—gave another hurried glance—and uttering a long, low cry of despair, sunk back insensible upon her pillow. Old Darkey flew from the chair to the patient, and from the patient to the bell, in great trepidation—ringing peals that brought all the household hurrying in alarm to the room. Old Mr. Clifton, being nearest at hand, arrived first. And when he saw and understood what had happened, he seized the hand-glass, and threw it out of the window, and laid hold of the heavy toilet mirror, and sent it flying after. Then he drove old Darkey from the room, forbidding her, for a stupid and dangerous maniac, ever to show her face there again. And all this time, Catherine, who had entered so quietly that no one saw or heard her, was silently trying to restore the swooning girl. As Carolyn, with a deep sigh, opened her eyes, Kate motioned for every one to leave the chamber. And all noiselessly withdrew. Carolyn shivered and shuddered several times, as she raised her eyes appealingly, despairingly to Catherine, who was bending tenderly over her. Catherine thought it best to answer that silent appeal by speaking at once to the point.