Her dead mother’s pale face seemed to look down upon her from its place in heaven, gently and placidly. Her father’s countenance, quivering with an agonised anxiety of expression, disturbed and sorrowful, oppressed her, but the features of Hal floated before her vision, appearing to grow brighter and brighter in her eyes, and to suggest a hopeful and happy future. It was broad daylight when she awoke. She turned her pained eyes around her, and beheld at her side again that same kind, motherly face which had been the first she looked upon the night before, when recovering from insensibility. She was greeted with kind words as on the previous occasion, and was permitted this time not only to recur mentally to the sad event of the night before, but to obtain some control over her natural emotions before a question was put to her, which called upon her to utter a word. During this interval, she learned that all her surmises had been founded on a true basis; that she was indebted to Hal Vivian for an almost miraculous escape from a dreadful death, and that she had been received and sheltered beneath the roof of Mr. Harper, where she was assured that she was welcome to remain until some arrangements for her comfort and convenience could be made. Further, Flora was given to understand that the good Samaritan before her was Mrs. Harper, who, though she had servants in the house, believed that her own ministrations to the suffering girl would be attended with more beneficial results than if she had delegated the task to others. Mrs. Harper was a truly generous, kind-hearted woman, and her efforts to serve others had, at least, the gratifying effect of rewarding herself, for hitherto she had been so fortunate as not to misplace them, or throw them away on unworthy objects. Her doves of pity and goodwill had always brought her back an olive branch, and if they had not, it is doubtful whether she would have ceased to render those services which came so opportunely, and were so grateful to whoever needed them. When Flora could command herself to speak, she, in warm and eloquent terms, expressed her deep and earnest gratitude for that self-sacrificing bravery which the nephew of Mrs. Harper had exhibited in the behalf of herself, and to the goodness and charity of the old lady, who, in her distress, had granted her so valuable an asylum. “Don’t speak of it, my child,” returned Mrs. Harper. “For my part, I wish my hospitality had been afforded to you under happier circumstances. And as for Hal, Heaven bless us! I thought I should have died when I saw him crawling with you up the roof of that horrible old house over the way. I’m sure I never expected to see you come down alive, either of you, and, in truth, I don’t believe you would if it hadn’t been for those bold firemen, who, mercy on us! were up in the flames, moving about like a parcel of demons in the fiery regions in the play!” Flora clasped her hands, and said sorrowfully--