“I pray you to retire, my dear young lady,” she said, speaking with firmness. “You are unintentionally only doing ill. Your unhappy mother is beyond all power of recognition. There is only one hope of a restoration of her senses, and that will be immediately preceding the moment when Heaven pleases to call her hence. Now you are disturbing and making her feverish, because she cannot understand your actions or comprehend your grief. You are injuring your own health, when its preservation is needful, and you are afflicting your dear young sister beyond her power to endure it. Pray, pray exert your self-command. I do assure you, Mi--madam, that your best fortitude and courage are needed now.” With one agonised look at the expressionless face of her mother, Helen turned to depart. She caught Evangeline in her arms and kissed her tear-bedewed cheeks with fervent earnestness, and then, with her arm folded around her waist, she quitted the chamber. Not a word or look at Mrs. Truebody. She could not trust herself to say a word to her now. She had not forgotten her. She had prepared a suitable reward for her; but at this moment the sight of her face raised too many unhappy recollections for her to be able even to speak to her. Once more alone in the sitting room, Helen inquired of Evangeline where her sister Margaret was, and upon what plea she had quitted the scene of affliction. Evangeline simply recounted the circumstances connected with the mysterious elopement with the Duke of St. Allborne, and expressed her wonder that Margaret should not have stopped at home, and been married in the proper and usual fashion. Helen, with burning cheeks and suffocating emotion, rose up and paced the room, placing her hands upon her beating temples. Suddenly she turned round and said-- “Where was Malcolm, that he did not follow them?” “Malcolm told me that the Honorable Mr. Vane advised him not to do so. He said that it was a mere romantic flight to Gretna Green, and that it would all come right at last.” “Villain! atrocious villain!” muttered Helen; and then said, sharply, “but where is Malcolm now? Why should he, my poor Evangeline, have deserted you in this dreadful crisis?” “He is in prison!” returned Evangeline, with, a shudder. “A gentle’--I--I mean it was explained to me that he had incurred debts and did not pay them, and therefore the creditor, by help of the law, put him into prison until he can make some arrangement.” Helen clasped her hands. “This is an abject fall for pride, indeed!” she exclaimed, with bitterness. As her eye fell upon Evangeline’s sweet, artless face, in gratitude that at least she had escaped the heavy visitations which had fallen on the other members of her family, she observed that her skin--so rarely delicate and white in its accustomed aspect--was suffused with crimson, and that she seemed strangely confused.