She arose and dressed, realizing that she was much stronger—that her long, restful sleep had greatly refreshed her. Then she went to her window and pulled aside the pretty draperies which hung over it, when to her astonishment she found herself before an iron-grated casement. “Why, how strange!” she exclaimed, and looking out she saw that the building she was in inclosed three sides of a square, which was beautifully laid out with beds of flowers and variegated foliage. A fountain was in the centre, while numerous rustic seats were scattered about the grass-plots and finely gravelled walks. But as her eye traversed the circuit of the spacious building, she noticed that almost every window was grated like her own. What could it mean? Surely it was not a prison that she was in! and yet it had the appearance of one. She was startled and depressed by the discovery; still she told herself that whatever the nature of the place might be, it could not affect her, since she was simply the guest of Monsieur and Madame Arnot for the night. She resolved, however, that she would leave at as early an hour as possible, she would not wait for her coachman but order another carriage; and with this in view, she put on her bonnet and wrap and made herself ready for her departure. But to her consternation, when she attempted to open her door she found that it was locked on the outside, and her heart sank within her. She dropped, pale and trembling, into a chair, a vague suspicion of the truth beginning to dawn upon her. Presently she heard steps outside her door, the key was softly turned, and the next moment a maid entered, bearing a tray upon which was a nice breakfast. She put it upon the table, and then rolled it toward Salome, who thought the girl regarded her curiously, although she greeted her with a pleasant “good-morning.” “I do not care for any breakfast,” Salome remarked. “I will go down and consult with Monsieur Arnot about sending for a carriage immediately.” “Mademoiselle will surely eat something first,” the girl said in a coaxing tone, such as she might have used towards fractious child. “No, thank you; I will go directly to Monsieur Arnot,” and Salome arose, as she spoke, to leave the room. But her attendant dexterously slipped before her and turned the key in the lock. “Mademoiselle cannot go down just now,” she said firmly. “Why not?” Salome demanded with kindling eyes, and resenting the restraint thus imposed upon her. “Because she is the patient of Dr. Arnot, and he will himself visit mademoiselle when he makes his usual round of the wards. Come, now, here is a nice bit of broiled steak, some fine hot rolls, delicious coffee, and luscious berries with cream,” the girl concluded soothingly, while she arranged the viands temptingly before her charge. But Salome again sank weakly upon her chair.