“Sit down, please, here by my bedside.” Mrs. Georgia took the nurse’s arm-chair. “Dear Georgia,” she said, gently taking both her hands, and looking kindly in her face, “I sent for you, because I thought you must be so unhappy about what you have unintentionally caused me to suffer. And I wished to tell you not to remember it in bitterness any more. Oh! I grieve so much at the memory of what I have made my dear father suffer, that I can feel for others who are tortured by remorse, and I would not, for the whole world, that any one should mourn for what they have caused me to suffer. So, dear Georgia, I acquit you of all blame, from the bottom of my heart, indeed I do—and I pray that God may make you happier than _I_ have ever been. And I will never, never drop a hint, by which any one shall suspect—I mean I will never let fall a word to any one, that shall injure you, Georgia. I would not die and bequeath you so bitter a legacy as an enemy. Though I knew you would not come and ask me, I sent for you to assure you of this, Georgia, and to reconcile myself with you, that we might be friends before I die. And now, God bless you! Kiss me, and say good-bye, for my fever is rising.” And she held up her lips. Georgia was weeping. “Zuleime, my dear child, why don’t you call me mamma, as heretofore?” she asked. “Oh, don’t you know long ago you told me not to do it. But I will, if you wish it, now. Kiss me, dear mamma. There, now, go and be at peace.” Georgia hurried from the room. They never met again. Zuleime revived slightly when the spring opened. She had heard that her sister Carolyn had nearly recovered her health, and was just about to set out on her voyage home. And two secret wishes the poor girl indulged: once more to visit White Cliffs, and to live to see her only sister again. But she kept them to herself in the fear of giving Frank trouble, for she knew that he would try to move Heaven and earth to please her, and deeply grieve if he should fail. She concealed her wants, but they were discovered by him who watched day and night to anticipate her wishes. And Captain Fairfax called upon the family physician, and consulted him upon the possibility of taking Zuleime to White Cliffs, as soon as the spring weather should be permanently settled. The physician’s opinion was highly favorable to his wishes. He said that she might be removed by easy stages to the country, and that if proper care and attention were bestowed, the journey and the change of air would probably be found very beneficial to her health. Captain Fairfax hastened home to cheer his wife with the news. And she was gladdened by it. She caught both his hands and kissed them, and held them to her face, and looking at him fondly, said— “Dear Frank! dearest Frank! you try to perform miracles for me!”