“Did I?” she said, in a bewildered sort of way. “It is all like a dream to me. I remember Prudence screaming, and telling me I had the plague, and the unutterable horror that filled me when I heard it; and then the next thing I recollect is, being at the plague-pit, and seeing your face and his bending over me. All the horror came back with that awakening, and between it and anguish of the plague-sore I think I fainted again.” (Ormiston nodded sagaciously), “and when I next recovered I was alone in a strange room, and in bed. I noticed that, though I think I must have been delirious. And then, half-mad with agony, I got out to the street, somehow and ran, and ran, and ran, until the people saw and followed me here. I suppose I had some idea of reaching home when I came here; but the crowd pressed so close behind, and I felt though all my delirium, that they would bring me to the pest-house if they caught me, and drowning seemed to me preferable to that. So I was in the river before I knew it--and you know the rest as well as I do. But I owe you my life, Mr. Ormiston--owe it to you and another; and I thank you both with all my heart.” “Madame, you are too grateful; and I don't know as we have done anything much to deserve it.” “You have saved my life; and though you may think that a valueless trifle, not worth speaking of, I assure you I view it in a very different light,” she said, with a half smile. “Lady, your life is invaluable; but as to our saving it, why, you would not have us throw you alive into the plague-pit, would you?” “It would have been rather barbarous, I confess, but there are few who would risk infection for the sake of a mere stranger. Instead of doing as you did, you might have sent me to the pest-house, you know.” “Oh, as to that, all your gratitude is due to Sir Norman. He managed the whole affair, and what is more, fell--but I will leave that for himself to disclose. Meantime, may I ask the name of the lady I have been so fortunate as to serve!” “Undoubtedly, sir--my name is Leoline.” “Leoline is only half a name.” “Then I am so unfortunate an only to possess half a name, for I never had any other.” Ormiston opened his eyes very wide indeed. “No other! you must have had a father some time in your life; most people have,” said the young gentleman, reflectively. She shook her head a little sadly. “I never had, that I know of, either father or mother, or any one but Prudence. And by the way,” she said, half starting up, “the first thing to be done is, to see about this same Prudence. She must be somewhere in the house.” “Prudence is nowhere in the house,” said Ormiston, quietly; “and will not be, she says, far a month to come. She is afraid of the plague.” “Is she?” said Leoline, fixing her eyes on him with a powerful glance. “How do you know that?” “I heard her say so not half an hour ago, to a lady a few doors distant. Perhaps you know her--La Masque.”