"What is the matter with your wife?" he asked of the strange gentleman, who bent down and whispered something that made Dr. Letsom himself look anxious. "Now doctor," said the traveler, "it is useless to raise objections You see how the matter stands; my wife must stop here. The hotel is full of visitors--people who are here for the races. There is nowhere else for her to go--she must stay here." "At my house?" interrogated the doctor. "It is impossible." "Why?" asked the stranger, quickly. "Because I am not married--I have no wife, no sister." "But you have women-servants, surely?" was the hasty rejoinder. "Only one, and she is not over-clever." "You can get more. My wife must have help. Send all over the place--get the best nurses, the best help possible. Do not study expense. I will make you a rich man for life if you will only help me now." "I will help you," said Dr. Letsom. For a moment his thoughts flew to the green grave under the stars. Riches would come too late, after all; they could not bring back life to the dead. "Wait one moment," said the doctor; and he hastened to rouse his housekeeper, who, curious and interested, exerted herself so as to satisfy even the stranger. Then the strange lady, all white and trembling, was helped down from the parlor into the doctor's shabby little parlor. "Am I going to die?" she asked, raising her large blue eyes to the doctor's face. "Certainly not," he replied, promptly; "you must not think of dying." "But I am very ill; and last night I dreamed that I was dead." "Have you any brandy in the house?" asked the traveler. "See how my wife trembles." Alas for the poor doctor! There was neither brandy nor wine. With an impatient murmur, the stranger called the postilion and sent him to the Castle arms with such an order as made Mrs. Galbraith open her eyes in wonder. Than, without seeming to notice the doctor or his servant, he flung himself on his knees by the lady's side, and kissed the beautiful white face and colorless lips. "My darling," he cried, "this is my fault. I ought not to have asked you to undertake such a journey. Can you ever forgive me?" She kissed him. "You did all for the best, Hubert," she said, then adding, in a whisper: "Do you think I shall die?" Then the doctor thought it right to interpose. "There is no question of death," he said; "but you must be quiet. You must have no agitation--that would injure you." Then he and Mrs. Galbraith led the beautiful, trembling girl to the room which the latter had hastily prepared for her, and, when she was installed therein, the doctor returned to the stranger, who was pacing, with quick, impatient steps, up and down the little parlor. "How is she?" he cried, eagerly. The doctor shook his head. "She is young and very nervous," he replied. "I had better tell you at once that she will not be able to leave Castledene for a time--all thought of continuing the journey must be abandoned."