Helen slept all that night, but the following day was a counterpart of the last. Neither Mrs. Grahame nor Margaret made any attempt to see her, when they were requested not to visit her for a day or so, but Evangeline could scarcely be moved from the chamber door. She stole there upon tiptoe, and stood without for hours, listening intently. If she could have only heard Helen speak, it would have made her heart light and glad. That night, at the hour when the household were retiring to repose, Evangeline escaped the vigilance of Mrs. Truebody, and crept to the bedside. Helen lay there in deep thought, as for hours she had been--living over her past life, and vainly trying to shape out of the obscure future the lot she would have to endure. Her restless eyes suddenly fell upon the upturned, loving face of her sister--that face so full of tenderness, and yet charged with an expression deprecating her anger for having broken through the arrangement which compelled her absence. At first Helen shrank, as if horrified, from her, but Evangeline leaned over, and caught her in her arms. “Do not be angry with me, Helen, dearest,” she said, entreatingly; “but indeed, indeed, I could not sleep without speaking just one little word to you, and kissing you. I sobbed all last night; it was foolish, I know; but I could not bear to go to bed without having even seen you during the day.” “Do--do not touch me, Eva,” said Helen, gasping and struggling to free herself from her sister’s affectionate embrace. Eva burst into tears. “Do not be cross with me, Helen, darling, for I love you fondly and dearly!” she exclaimed. “If I too much intrude my love upon you, forgive me, for I cannot help it. Say to me only, ‘Good night, Eva,’ and kiss me, and I will leave you--oh, so happy, Helen.” Helen could not bear this tenderness of her sister’s, and not respond to it; she strained her passionately to her bosom, and sobbed violently upon her neck. She then wiped her scalding tears from her burning eyes, and kissed Eva fervidly upon the forehead. “Eva,” she whispered in her ear, “I love you with my whole soul. I have wronged you. I have treated you with unkindness----” “No, darling--no, never.” “With unfeeling scorn, Eva--cruel, selfish pride. I am punished, Eva--you cannot dream how fearfully; but let that pass--mine the crime, mine the atonement. Know this, however--that my eyes are opened, and my error stands before me, a monument of glowing brass. You do not understand this, sweet Eva; but you will comprehend that, from the inmost depths of my heart, I love and honour you.” “Helen!” “That in--in the--the time to come, I shall never forget your more than sisterly affection, your dear love for me, and I shall pray for blessings to be showered upon you, Eva--pray for you--as I hope you will--will pray for me.”