The air was cold and fresh; her feverish lips swallowed it as a reviving draught. I gazed alternately at her and the landscape, already flushed with the red of early sunset. It was a December day, chill but bright; the ground was frozen, and the river sparkled with the keen blueness of splintered steel. The red banner of twilight hung over the Palisades. I lived really three years in that short ride--the three years just past--and when we reached our destination, I walked like one in a dream. It was quite evening when we got out at Blankville, though the moon was shining. A fussy little woman passed out before us, lugging a large band-box; she handed it to the town express, telling the driver to be very careful of it, and take it round at once to Esquire Argyll's. "I suppose it contains the wedding-bonnet," he said, with a laugh. "That it does, and the dress, too, all of my own selection," said the little woman, with an air of importance. "Just you carry it in your hand, sir, and don't you allow nothing to come near it." When I heard these words, a hot flush came to my face. That Mary Argyll was already married, or expected to be very soon, I knew; but I could not hear this reference to the wedding, nor see this article of preparation, without keen pain. Yet what business was it of mine? Mr. Burton had also heard the brief colloquy, and I noticed his lips pressed together with a fierce expression as we passed under the lamp which lighted the crossing. He took us into the hotel by the depot. Oh, how suffocating, how close, became memory! Into this building poor Henry had been carried on that wretched morning. It seemed to be but yesterday. I think Leesy was recalling it all, for when a cup of tea was brought in for her, at Mr. Burton's bidding, she turned from it with loathing. "Leesy," he said, looking at her firmly, and speaking in a tone of high command, "I don't want you to fail me now. The trial will soon be over. Brace yourself for it with all the strength you have. Now, I am going out a few moments--perhaps for half an hour. When I return, you will both be ready to go with me to Mr. Argyll's house." I was nearly as much shaken by this prospect as the frail woman who sat trembling in a corner of the sofa. To go into that house from which I had departed with such ignominy--to see Eleanor face to face--to meet them all who had once been my friends--to greet them as strangers, for such they were--they must be, to me!--to appear in their midst under such strange circumstances--to hear, I knew not what--to learn that mystery--my heart grew as if walled in with ice; it could not half beat, and felt cold in my breast. Both Leesy and myself started when Mr. Burton again appeared in the room. "All is right thus far," he said, in a clear, cheery voice, which, nevertheless, had the high ring of excitement. "Come, now, let us not waste the golden moments, for now the hour is ripe."