"I am dead to my home--I shall never see it again, and to my friends--I shall never see them again. I am dead to all the hopes that once made earth like heaven for me." Her voice died away in a faint, moaning sob, and there was silence--silence that was broken at last by the clear, deep voice of the doctor. "Will you tell us why this is?" he asked. "I cannot," she replied, "I can only trust to your mercy. I cannot tell you either my name or my station, or what has slain me, when life was most sweet." "Did you do something very wrong?" asked Mrs. Chalmers, with a shadow on her kindly face. Hyacinth raised her beautiful eyes to the drifting clouds, which she could see from the window. "I did something," she replied--"but, no--I don't think it was so very wrong; hundreds do it, and never think it wrong at all. I only planned it; a fear that it might be wrong came over me, and I did not do it. But the consequences of even the little I did--the shadow as it were of a sin--fell over me, and my whole life is darkened." "You can tell us no more?" said the doctor. "No!" she replied; mournfully; "I throw myself on your mercy." "She has never done anything wrong, Robert," interrupted Mrs. Chalmers, addressing her son; "take my word for it. Look at that innocent face, those clear, true eyes--no one could believe they were coupled with guilt. I trust you, my dear," she added, turning to Hyacinth. "Keep your secret--never mind it; I believe in you, and shall never ask what it is." A grateful look came over the girl's face. "Thank you," she said. "You are right; I am not wicked. In one action of my life I was imprudent and foolish; the consequences of that action, which could not have been foreseen by any one, have crushed me. I am not wicked. See, I ask you to let me kiss your face; if my lips were stained with false words, I would not--I could not do so. I clasp your hands--ah, such true, kind hands they have been to me!--in my own; but, if mine were stained with crime, I could not do it." "I believe you, my dear child," said Mrs. Chalmers; "you need say no more." "I may tell you this," continued the girl. "I had a name as old and honored as any in the land; but I have laid it down and shall never use it again. I had friends--kind, strict, noble, generous; I have looked my last upon them. I had--oh, dear Heaven, it is hard to say!--I had a lover, whom I loved dearly, and his face I have looked upon for the last time. I am dead to all--dead in life!" Her voice faltered, she broke into a passionate fit of weeping. During this time the doctor had spoken never a word, but now he bent over her. "Child," he said, "you are so young, so simple, that, if any wrong has been done, you have been sinned against, not the sinner. Like my mother, I trust you. We have neither daughter nor sister; you shall be both. Our home shall be your home--what we have you shall share with us as long as life lasts."