She ran lightly up the stairs, wondering a little that her mother's room should be in darkness. Crossing over to the match safe she stumbled over something on the floor and struck a light in half terror. "Oh mother! mother!" she cried to the prostrate figure. Then in sudden fear she called in the hall--"Oh, will some one come! I cannot tell what has happened to mother." Miss Arran answered. The face was deadly white and cold, the eyes half open, staring. "Oh, she is dead! I went out to walk and staid too long." Lilian's voice was full of remorseful pathos. "No," said Miss Arran. "I think she has only fainted. Her heart beats a little; Let us lay her on the bed and I'll get some restoratives. Is she accustomed to fainting?" "Not like this. Oh poor mother!" They laid her on the bed, chafed her hands and bathed her face, using the lavender salts. After a little there was a faint respiration. Then she opened her eyes and murmured something. "Mother, dear, what happened? And I was away." "It will be better when--when I'm gone." The vague glance seemed to study the girl with poignant anguish. "Oh, yes!--better--" "You must not say that. You must live to let me repay you for all you have done for me, and we will be happy--" She moved her head from side to side in dissent. "Oh, you do not know, but I did it for love's sake. I could not live without my child." "Suppose we get her undressed, she will feel more comfortable. She has not looked well for the last week or two. Mrs. Barrington was speaking about it, but she is such a quiet body." Lilian opened the bed. She was girlishly glad her mother's night dress was neat and lace trimmed, fit to go to her new home. So they soon had her easier and restful. "I should like a cup of tea," she said, weakly. "I'll get it," and Miss Arran left the room. "Dear mother," and Lilian patted the hands that were thin and cold. "Oh, love me a little to the end, I've loved you so much. Whatever comes you will know I did it for love's sake, and you must forgive." "There can be nothing to forgive. You have worked for me early and late. You must live and let me repay you, make you happy. If I have failed in the past I will try with all my soul and strength in the future. Think, every year brings us nearer the home I shall make for you. Oh, do not talk of dying!" "You don't know. I did not think of the wrong then. You were a motherless babe, then, and I was a childless mother. For you must know, you must have felt in your inmost soul that I was not your true mother." Lilian raised her head in the wildest dismay, and though she stared at Miss Arran she did not seem to see her. Many a time like a lightning flash the thought had swept over her, but it seemed awful to have it put in words, to have the certainty pierce through her like a sharp sword.